


next best american record

by sectanda



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1940s, Cocaine, Dark Magic, Enemies to Lovers, Espionage, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hogwarts, Knights of Walpurgis, MACUSA | Magical Congress of the United States of America, Manipulative Tom Riddle, Original Character(s), Possessive Tom Riddle, Praise Kink, Pureblood Politics (Harry Potter), Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Substance Abuse, Teenage Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 142,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29552364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sectanda/pseuds/sectanda
Summary: tom riddle x oc1944-1945 eratheir interactions were paradoxical. there was no modus vivendi when they were together. if tom was in control, then sicaria was not. if sicaria was in control, then tom was not. when it was sicaria, tom would always be fighting his way back to control, but when it was tom, sicaria did what she needed to survive. he was fight, she was flight.the rest of her sentence caught in her throat when she turned around, back pressed to the bookshelf and less than a meter from riddle. how did he manage to sneak up on me like that? "is personal space a foreign concept to you people?"he laughed derisively and inched toward her more. her back pressed further into the bookshelf but she ensured her face remained blank. she did not dare be the first to break eye contact. he reached toward her hand, but she moved it. "what are you doing?""tell me to move." he asserted. his eyes did not move from hers, as he searched her face for any betrayal of what she was feeling. she remained stoically inexpressive."move." she complied, but only because she would have told him to move whether or not he asked her to."no." he said, stepping even closer.
Relationships: Tom Riddle/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 54





	1. introduction

**Author's Note:**

> their first kiss is on chapter twenty two.
> 
> please give this a try; i know my writing is imperfect, but i have a compelling story lined up so yeah.
> 
> the chapters get increasingly longer as we go on.

welcome to  
𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝

'𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝'

cast

_sicaria edwards_

_tom riddle_

_abraxas malfoy_

_adonis rosier_

_adrien lestrange_

_thomas nott_

_alexei leonov_

_barry campbell_

_albus dumbledore_

_eileen vota_

sicaria edwards is the daughter of two dead american aurors. before they were murdered by acolytes of gellert grindelwald, they spent her entire life forcing her into a box. they taught her to be rational, innovative, and above all, alive. the perfect spy, not that she noticed at the time. how she resented them; training their child to fight in a war that she was too young to understand.

upon news of their deaths, she couldn't muster up the effort to feel anything; not happy, not sad. just pure apathy.

it only took her a week to snap out of the shock, and at that point, she was happier than she'd ever been in their lives. they say not to speak ill of the dead; instead, sicaria laughed at them.

that was until the tyrannical magical congress of the united states informed her that the circumstances of her parents deaths required her to fill their place. she almost laughed at first; what was this some kind of prank? how much use could they make of a sixteen-year-old?

surprisingly, a lot.

her parents had managed to make her life more miserable from beyond the grave. two years later, macusa was no where near done using the now eighteen-year-old sicaria. not for lack of trying on her part; she did everything in her power to get them to fire her, but if she refused service, they threatened her with 10 years in azkaban for "aiding and abetting international terrorism."

she was too good of an asset to let her slip through their greedy, desperate little fingers.

now, they had sent her on her most remote (and most meaningless, she originally thought) assignment yet. they shipped her away to a british boarding school to spy on a bunch of teenagers. they wanted her to put sixteen-year-olds on a terrorist watchlist?

she never thought she would see the day that a boy would crack her resolve, and slither his way into her life through the gaps. sicaria spent all her life praying for the day when she could live her life caring only for herself. but how could she, now that all she longed to do was chain herself to a boy who had ambitions of things never done before?


	2. introduction

welcome to  
𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝

'𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝'

cast

_sicaria edwards_

_tom riddle_

_abraxas malfoy_

_adonis rosier_

_adrien lestrange_

_thomas nott_

_alexei leonov_

_barry campbell_

_albus dumbledore_

_eileen vota_

sicaria edwards is the daughter of two dead american aurors. before they were murdered by acolytes of gellert grindelwald, they spent her entire life forcing her into a box. they taught her to be rational, innovative, and above all, alive. the perfect spy, not that she noticed at the time. how she resented them; training their child to fight in a war that she was too young to understand.

upon news of their deaths, she couldn't muster up the effort to feel anything; not happy, not sad. just pure apathy.

it only took her a week to snap out of the shock, and at that point, she was happier than she'd ever been in their lives. they say not to speak ill of the dead; instead, sicaria laughed at them.

that was until the tyrannical magical congress of the united states informed her that the circumstances of her parents deaths required her to fill their place. she almost laughed at first; what was this some kind of prank? how much use could they make of a sixteen-year-old?

surprisingly, a lot.

her parents had managed to make her life more miserable from beyond the grave. two years later, macusa was no where near done using the now eighteen-year-old sicaria. not for lack of trying on her part; she did everything in her power to get them to fire her, but if she refused service, they threatened her with 10 years in azkaban for "aiding and abetting international terrorism."

she was too good of an asset to let her slip through their greedy, desperate little fingers.

now, they had sent her on her most remote (and most meaningless, she originally thought) assignment yet. they shipped her away to a british boarding school to spy on a bunch of teenagers. they wanted her to put sixteen-year-olds on a terrorist watchlist?

she never thought she would see the day that a boy would crack her resolve, and slither his way into her life through the gaps. sicaria spent all her life praying for the day when she could live her life caring only for herself. but how could she, now that all she longed to do was chain herself to a boy who had ambitions of things never done before?


	3. i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> non graphic drug use

chapter one  
october 1944

sicaria hated most things in her life, but the one thing she found constant joy in was her city. new york city. of course, it was dirty, disgusting, filled with imbeciles, and impatient, but that was all the appeal of it to her. she loved how the city could be so two faced; so brilliant in the eyes of travelers but so repulsive to natives. the city felt like a person to her, one that could switch its personality in a matter of seconds, all depending on what street corner you turned on. on where someone could sell her crack, and she'd turn the corner to see a rehabilitation center. truly mercurial.

new york was also home to the headquarters of the building she most hated in the world. macusa headquarters. her mood darkened at the thought of it. 

right now, she was sitting in the bedroom of a small motel in a village called hogsmeade, thousands of miles away from new york. one part sad to be away from the city she loved, but also happy to be far from macusa, even though they were, quite literally, branded into her very skin and always lingering in her mind.

she had arrived in the country only a few hours ago. taking a portkey from new york to london, and from there, apparating to the inn they directed her to go to. in the early hours of the morning, she would be escorted from the village to the hogwarts castle by albus dumbledore. her mind raced as she thought back to her introduction to him. 

as promised, barry was there to introduce her to the eccentric wizard she had heard too much about. he seemed to be bouncing off the walls with both nervousness and excitement as his eyes quickly darted between the young witch and the older wizard. he gave something resembling a sigh of relief when they shook hands.

"pleasure to meet you ms. edwards." he said to her upon her arrival. 

she considered him for a second before speaking. he did not seem offended by her hesitation. "so you're the wizard that the world seems to hate, but still relies on for some reason."

he gave a slight laugh. "a very astute observation."

"tell me, mr. dumbledore," she started. "why is it that you're meant to be the most powerful wizard in the world, and yet you've been chosen to play chaperone to me?"

"fate has an interesting way of connecting people, ms. edwards." that wasn't a real answer, but she realized that pressing him for one would likely get her nowhere. he was smart enough to see through any interrogation techniques she might have tried next, so she settled for the vague riddle. 

sicaria eyed the clock on the small desk in her room. 1:32 a.m. she sighed, standing up from the bed and pacing again. the damp air in the room seemed to be clogging her sinuses, and the smell of rotting wood and old dust did nothing to help the stickiness she felt from being in the room. she did several cleaning spells but none of them seemed to work; as if the grimy room was magically cursed to say that way. 

after pacing a few more steps, she went to sit down at the desk and took some more time to eye over her paperwork. no matter how much she hated macusa, she never hesitated to put full effort into her work. perhaps it was her perfectionist attitude that wouldn't allow her to half-way do a task. maybe it was the fact that they'd lock her up if she didn't. she had many files given to her, some of her tasks, some of possible targets for interrogation, some for adaptations to her new personality.

interrogating minors without parental consent was deemed illegal as of 1883. macusa sent her to do many of the missions involving minors (she's their age, they thought. it's much more excusable this way), always promising a pardon if she got caught. it was always easier for them if a witch the same age as her targets was the one caught rather than the other aurors who were in their late 20s. in all honesty, they were also not allowed to enlist the help of nonconsensual parties, nor minors (which was when she was "recruited") so she wasn't particularly surprised when they asked her to break international law for them. this worked great (for macusa but not for her conscience) until she was caught by a french auror, who didn't believe she was a macusa agent until the head of the department of magical law enforcement came to get her. that was both the first and most recent time sicaria saw him. 

she looked over the description on the social scene of the school and reread the biographies on all the teachers. armando dippet, galatea merrythought, geraldine glinda, selene silva, horace slughorn...

slytherin head of house: horace slughorn.

i'm supposed to be a slytherin, she thought, remembering back to her earlier conversation with dumbledore. 

"any specific reason that i am in slytherin house?" she asked, looking at the name. she had worked with european aurors who came from hogwarts and prided themselves on the house system. the slytherins she had met were very haughty, and often bent rules to complete tasks. for a while, she thought that if she had gone to hogwarts, that she would be a slytherin, but realized that she preferred finding loopholes to outright disregarding rules (a ravenclaw trait). 

she posed the question at dumbledore, but barry answered. "the highest concentration of purebloods are in slytherin." he masked his distaste well. he had been a gryffindor. 

house rivalry was very stupid to sicaria. everyone went to the same school, so what was there to fight over?

"seems a bit prejudiced, no?" her tone was not as sarcastic as usual, but filled with genuine curiosity. 

"the founder of that house, salazar slytherin, believed in pureblood supremacy, so he was inclined to allow in mostly purebloods and the ones that fit his requirements." cunning, ambition, leadership. she was aghast. 

turning to dumbledore, "what kind of civil-rights-violation of a school do you work for?"

she sighed again as she looked over her hundreds of papers that she had memorized several times over (memory potion helped). she was feeling a bit restless, but it was far past midnight and she had hoped to get a bit of sleep. she didn't have room for dreamless sleep potion in her supplies (all the space was taken up by polyjuice, veritaserum, calming draught, energy potion, and existimulo potion). she settled for a "celebratory" line. this wouldn't help her sleep, but it surely would make her feel a bit better.

her last hurrah for now. one more night to have a bit of disorder before she had to put her mask back on, and be the perfect little agent her parents had always trained her to me.

to me! she thought sarcastically as she sniffed, the familiar buzz tickling somewhere in her nasal passage. she was sick of pitying herself. she wondered if this would be her last line until she left the castle. 

it wasn't.

resting her forehead on the desk, she tried to imagine the sound of cars and people talking like how they did in new york, but the piercing silence of the hogsmeade street beyond her window was impossible to ignore. she never found herself being irritated by soundlessness, but here we are. without lifting her head, she did a scourgifying spell to clean the residue, and hide the rest of her supply. 

she stood abruptly, stalking around the room looking for something to do as she felt her high starting to kick in. 

•••

sicaria awoke with a start, a loud rapping at the door as a muffled voice called, "ms. edwards! are you alive in there?" she groaned as she lifted her head off of the desk she hadn't remembered falling asleep on, and called back, "one moment." how did i fall asleep? doesn't that shit make your heart beat faster?

she stood from the chair, back aching horribly, and did a quick cleaning charm on her face, so it wouldn't appear as though she was sleeping (though it was quite obvious; there were lines on her where the cracks of the wood met her face). she did another organizational charm as quietly as she could to put the room back in order and all her belongings back into her undetectably-extended bag. 

she opened the door with a scowl on her face and saw albus dumbledore beaming at her. 

"ah," his was unnaturally cheerful for this early in the morning. "i feared one of the creatures of this motel had gotten you in the night." and upon seeing her appalled expression, he quickly clarified, "just joking."

"right." she said, opening the door as a signal for him to step inside. he did so only slightly. 

he seemed to survey the room for a second, as though searching for something. she recognized that inspecting expression, but for once, it wasn't accompanied with a look of disgust or pity. her eyes watched and followed his as they flickered to various spots across the room. she cleared her throat and his eyes snapped back to her. 

"well we best be going then." his tone was just as light as always, filled with the same joviality it always was. sicaria wondered how someone could be so positive (or at least fake it convincingly enough) this early in the morning. without another word to him, she grabbed her bag off the bed and followed behind dumbledore. if her bag wasn't the size of a purse, he would have offered to carry it for her, not that she would have let him. 

when the castle came into view, she was awestruck. she had seen photos, but it didn't compare at all to the sight of the magnificent piece of architecture before her. the map and floorplan she memorized floated to the front of her mind, and she made note of several portions of the castle. there's the north tower, east wing, teachers quarters, headmaster's office, gryffindor tower...

the walk up to the castle was not silent in the least. dumbledore talked vividly about the grounds and the teachers, and sicaria made mental note of the things he said that were not included in the report given to her. as they crossed the gate and through the magical wards, she began to see students spread all across the grounds. many turned to her with questioning gazes as she fought back a scowl. few waved and said their greetings to the professor, but none dared to ask who she was. she thought of what dumbledore would have said if someone had asked her identity.

on their march to the castle, they passed several cliques of students. one caught her eye. a group of boys, all wearing green ties, and their eyes seemed to latch on to dumbledore (and by extension sicaria) the moment they entered their range of sight. they were a good thirty feet away, but that didn't stop the pair from noticing their suspicious and distrustful gazes.

"that one doesn't seem to like you very much." she whispered to dumbledore, but not making any change in eye contact to make it seem as though she was speaking to him. one boy stood out in the group; his facial expression was calm, but his body language was both hostile and questioning. sicaria glanced very quickly. his face was very angular, and there was a particular domineering aura about him. 

"quite the observation." dumbledore said to her, not bothering to hide the fact that he was speaking to her. they surely noticed. not that it mattered.

"any particular reason?"

"you'll meet him soon enough. i do think you'll be able to see why." sicaria found it odd for dumbledore to have some sort of rivalry toward a student, but she trusted him more (and less, in some ways) than any other government official she had spoken to. perhaps english people were just a bit weird.

it was hard for sicaria to conceal her sense of wonder as she entered the large castle. the high ceilings and the ancient architecture made it all feel so very overwhelming. she took note of the highest towers and the steepest staircases. she had never been in a building that looked this old and this large. the moving paintings and statues all seemed to have some sort of story to tell. if she hadn't spent the last few days memorizing the map (aside from the changing staircases) she would have been much more tense than she already was.

"remind me again of your identity, ms. edwards." it was spoken with the tone of casual conversation, but she recognized it to be a test. 

"sicaria edwards, previously homeschooled, but now i attend hogwarts following my parents death. i live with my aunt and grandmother in a small town just north of southampton, and i'm finishing my last year of education here before i return to the united states." she helped to craft the story they gave her. after all, the closer a lie is to the truth, the more believable it was. 

"excellent. and how is it that you know me?" 

"you were a close friend of my parents." she said as they approached a stone gargoyle blocking a stairway. 

"i've already told this to headmaster dippet, so he shouldn't ask many questions. when he places the hat on your head, just ask to be in slytherin and it'll put you there. i have faith in your abilities ms. edwards, and i know it may seem obsolete, but your task may shape up to be very consequential. no pressure." he said to her in a more serious tone than he had used with her at any other time. he quickly flipped back to his usual happy demeanor and said what sicaria assumed to be the password to dippet's office: "dionysus of olympus"

"one last thing," he said right at the door of the office. he seemed to be wondering if he should say what he was about to, but he decided to. "i am aware of how good you are at balancing your emotions with your work, and i am always here to advise you a coping mechanism if needed." she couldn't tell if he was implying what she thought he was, but she chose not to respond.

he didn't seem to take offense to her silence, and then knocked on the door. after a muffled, "enter!", dumbledore and sicaria stepped into the office just as the headmaster sent an owl out. she bit back a retort about the inefficiency and instead offered headmaster dippet an endearing smile. 

"ah, ms. edwards! how delightful to meet you!" dippet greeted her with great flamboyance. it was a kind, albeit unnecessary gesture as he through his hands in the air, and small sparks shot out from his fingertips. the gesture reminded her of muggle magicians she (she had seen playbills for their performances). it complemented the glittery fabric of his dark purple robes.

"the pleasure is all mine, headmaster. i thank you for letting me attend school here on such short notice." her new personality is firmly in place among students and staff aside from dumbledore. 

"of course, child. now let's get down to business," he said, gesturing for her and dumbledore to sit. the next few minutes were spent asking her various questions: dippet about the america's and sicaria about the school. she asked an array of questions, some of which she already knew the answer to. he explained to her a lot of the rules on campus, and made a note immediately that she would have to loophole through some of them.

in the middle of his spiel, she found herself wondering why macusa "trusted" dumbledore enough to know of her task, but not the actual headmaster of the school. she added this to her list of questions that she hoped to find answers to in the near-future. 

the sorting "ceremony" went by rather unceremoniously ("your mind moves quickly, in ways that i have never seen in a child before. you have a talent for memorizing and applying knowledge, but you have reckless tendencies to endanger yourself. manipulation is one of your strong suits, but you seem to prefer working in the shadows to being a leader. a near-perfect ravenclaw i'd say, but for the sake of your task, you must be SLYTHERIN!") and from there, dippet gave his final remarks. the hat knew about the task before she had even asked it to be put in slytherin. she wondered what hind of magic powered it. 

"now that we have everything in order," dippet said. "i'll call in the head boy to show you to your dorm. tomorrow he'll escort you to professor slughorns office so you'll be able to get your schedule." she prayed that dumbledore had put her in the smart classes. "tom!" he called in the direction of the door. if sicaria didn't know any better, she'd say he looked almost affectionately at the door. she wondered if weird teacher-student relationships were a staple of british culture.

in walked the boy from the grounds earlier, his arms crossed behind his back and a charming smile gracing his features. sicaria's eyes narrowed in suspicion. this could not be the same boy who leered at her from the grounds only an hour or so ago.

"how may i be of assistance, headmaster dippet?" he reminded her of himself; his easy switch between persona's meant that surely he was hiding something. she would have to pay attention to this boy. no you don't, not unless it's part of your mission. right, right. no distractions. no personal curiosity. only work.

"this is our head boy, tom riddle. tom, meet sicaria edwards." their eyes met.


	4. ii

october 1944

tom riddle was truly an enigma. everything about him both intrigued and repulsed sicaria. it was magnetic, pulling her in, dousing her with intrigue, but every single alarm in her head was telling her to stay away. his charming exterior was almost a match for her observational skills, and she easily saw that there was something sinister lurking beneath the surface, deep enough to be barely detectable, but superficial enough to show when he needed it to. as for the intriguing part, this boy was unnaturally attractive. his hair, his cheekbones, his jaw, his lips, all in perfect proportion to each other, and in facial expressions that could charm almost anyone. his posture was one of self-assuredness and his steps were gracefully and practiced. 

to the naked eye, he was perfect.

he stared at her while dippet was delivering instructions. he watched her face as she watched his. his eyes darted across her features, looking for any signs of anything extraordinary. all he saw was above average, but he could see her mask. something about her was fake. manufactured. he recognized it easily; that being the same façade he showed everyone. the way her sweet, innocent smile played on her lips look practiced, and the tone of her voice was one that was much to confident to be an average woman. the way her eyes moved quickly across him, analyzing and searching was enough for him to know that she had seen something in him that he tried hard to show no one. her observational skills rivaled his own. something about this girl was extraordinary. 

to the naked eye, she was perfect. 

dippet dismissed the two from his office, leaving dumbledore behind to speak with the headmaster. there were no words spoken between the two as they walked the long corridors in the direction of the slytherin common room, but both heads raced with first impressions of each other. sicaria barely struggling to keep up with his fast pace, as though he was itching to get away from her. she wondered what made him so keen to get out of her presence. perhaps it had something to do with his obvious disdain for dumbledore that made him suspicious of her.

as they rounded a corner, a brown-haired boy (one of those in the group with riddle earlier) almost bumped into sicaria. stumbling to a halt so as to avoid collision, she pressed herself against the wall.

"riddle, i was looking for you." he started, but stopped as he made a wary glance over to sicaria. she noticed. he looked toward riddle questioningly, like he was asking if he was allowed to speak. "who's that?"

"what is it, lestrange?" riddle said to him calmly, but sicaria did not miss the change in body language of the two. he ignored lestrange's question.

"i've made a break through on our _assignment._ i'd like you to have a look." lestrange said. sicaria immediately noticed the lie, the way his eyes slightly shifted as he said _assignment_ and the sly, but noticeable glances toward sicaria. she was standing slightly behind riddle, so he could not see her, and raised her eyebrows almost tauntingly at lestrange. he paled and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

lestrange looked like a good natured gentleman. his face was angular but his features were soft, and though he had an anxious look on his face, it still resembled a faint smile. 

"we'll speak about it later." riddle said and without so much as a glance to make sure she was still following, he was off again. the halls were mostly empty, which was weird because it was rather early in the day.

she knew she shouldn't have, but something in her curiosity stirred. he was too perfect on the outside, and she wanted to see what it would take to get him to crack. after a few steps, they rounded another corner away from the lestrange boy, and sicaria spoke. "not a great liar, your friend is." all the british voices that had surrounded her all day made her feel so out of place with her unmistakably american accent.

he whirled around at her almost immediately. his expression was suspiciously blank. "i beg your pardon?" she searched his eyes, an emotion she could not place was stirring behind him, but his tone and posture were still as polite as ever.

she shrugged. "your friend. lestrange, right? he said there was an assignment, but he lied so i wouldn't know what you two were actually talking about." she stated simply. she watched him carefully for any miniscule change in his facial expression but found none. she was trying to provoke him into emoting, but he was well practiced in concealing his emotion, though not very well versed in being able to fake them. 

"interesting observation." his tone was calm, but some type of anger stirred deep beneath his eyes. she took note. _watch his eyes._

"i guess so."

he considered her for a moment, staring deep into her eyes. she could feel him attempting to creep into her brain, but her occlumency was airtight. she blinked at him, as if to say _i caught you._ if he was a legilimens, he certainly must have been a proficient occlumens, so for her to return the favor by using legilimency on him would be obsolete. 

"you're american, correct?" he said as though he was catching her in a lie, but she had made no efforts to conceal the fact that she was from america, at the specific request of the counsel. she knew something about him, so he had to pretend he knew anything about her. 

"interesting observation." she countered by mirroring his previous words and tone. he turned back around, but not before sicaria noticed the slight twitch in his jaw. he walked somehow faster, but sicaria still didn't struggle to keep up with him. 

they reached a door that she assumed was to the slytherin common room. without turning to speak to her, he addressed her by saying, "the password is _audentes fortuna iuvat._ "

 _fortune favors the bold._ latin.

they entered the common room, few people at tables and lounging in chairs, all seeming to turn to the door as they see the head boy and a new girl walk in the door. many were immediately apprehensive, looks of questioning and unnecessary disgust tainted their features. the attention that would come with this mission was not something she anticipated. if she had done a bit more thinking, it would be an obvious conclusion; that people would have interest in a random girl showing up two months into the school year. neither of them seemed to be prepared for the immediate stares. riddle seemed to recollect himself faster than she did and then turned toward her. 

"your dorm is down that hallway," he said as he gestured down a hallway. "it should be the only door that is open. i will meet you here tomorrow morning at 8:45 to escort you to professor slughorn's office." his perfect charming smile was back in place, but she did not miss the bite to his tone. before she could even say a thank you (not that she was going to) he was stalking away from her. she turned in the direction of the hallway he pointed at, not bothering to return any of the stares or nasty looks she was facing. her patience was already wearing thin.

she had to remember she couldn't be outwardly aggressive in public anymore, and had to stick to passive-aggressive remarks so that her persona wouldn't draw too much suspicion. 

sicaria found the room with ease, and was glad to see that she did not have any roommates. she closed the door behind her and did a series of organizational charms to take the things out of the purse she carried and into the closet, bathroom, and desk. all the ministry files had protective enchantments on them, but she added a few more wards and notice-me-not's before setting them on her desk. no one would be able to see them unless they were looking for them, and if they tried to touch them without the proper clearance, it would burn the hands of the person.

she went up to the closed door. taking out her wand, she cut a line in her hand using a severing charm and drew blood from her palm. she touched her wand to the blood collecting him her hand and brought the tip of her wand to the door and drew the ancient runic protection enchantment that she had learned on an assignment in spain. 

" _praesidio corporis sanguis,"_ she muttered over and over again while drawing with the blood on the door. when she opened her eyes, the rune glowed purple and the blood disappeared into the door. she cleaned and sealed the wound on her hand. 

it was still midmorning, but sicaria had no interest in exploring the castle on this saturday, not with all the eyes prying around. she would go down to the great hall for dinner, and come immediately back to her dorm to try to formulate plans on how to infiltrate the well established social circles of the school. these people had known each other since they were eleven, and trying to force her way into something that had been together for seven years would prove to be a difficult task.

she spent the next few hours bouncing around her dorm room, doing everything between practicing transfiguration, reading interrogation notes, napping, and trying on her new school robes. she felt extremely out of place here (american where everyone else was european; half-black where most of the students were white; intelligence agent where everyone else was a student) but she would learn how to mask that discomfort well.

at dinner, she praised a slytherin named venus davidson for being the only one brave enough to sit near her. everyone else just stared from afar. sicaria sat at the very end of the slytherin table, alone, until the girl slid into the seat right in front of her. 

sicaria looked up, surprised to see someone with the boldness to approach her rather than stare. she could be useful.

"nice to meet you, new girl." venus was kind, tonally, but her smile was a bit mischievous. sicaria didn't quite know what to make of this yet. she searched her eyes and face, and saw that there was an ulterior motive lying just beneath the surface of her words.

"call me sicaria. nice to meet you as well-"

"venus. venus davidson. have you had any trouble finding your way through the school?" she asked. the entire great hall was staring at the two; some unashamed and unblinking, others stealing quick glances to pretend they were uninterested. 

"not particularly, but it is quite a big campus." she gave a short response. 

the rest of dinner was spent with the two asking questions from each other, making small conversation. when sicaria asked about the students, venus asked about america. venus seemed smart enough, but she lacked tact and basic kindness. she made many abrasive and insensitive comments, but sicaria brushed them off. venus would make for a good temporary companion. this banter was pleasant, but interrupted when headmaster dippet stood up to speak. in about ten seconds, the room was silent.

"students, i am pleased to announce that we have a new student joining us. i am sure you are all observant enough to have noticed her. ms. edwards, please stand for just a moment." he gestured toward her from across the hall. 

_oh shit. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._

sicaria stood reluctantly as venus struggled to hide her laughter at sicaria's obvious discomfort. it wasn't a friendly laugh; she truly seemed to be taking pleasure in sicaria's embarrassment. dippet smiled, seemingly oblivious to the humiliation he was putting her through. dumbledore raised his glass toward her.

"this is sicaria edwards. as i said before, she is a new, not only to this school, but also to this country. i expect you all to give her a respectful welcome as she continues this year with us. you may sit." sicaria dropped immediately, calming her breathing. attention was one of the worst things in her vocabulary, but she would have to get used to it. venus still had not stopped laughing and sicaria sent a glare toward her. most eyes still had not left her. tom riddle was still staring at her, and by extension his coterie was too.

all five boys were looking at them unashamedly, venus taking notice. 

she rolled her eyes. "it'd do you good to stay away from them. they can be quite abrasive, but they're all quite attractive if that's what you're looking for. stay away from rosier though, he's mine." _i don't know who rosier is, venus._

dippet made a series of school announcements, and as hard as sicaria tried to focus, she couldn't.

not when venus kept making small taunts, like calling her "little miss famous" or "american girl doll".

not when whatever this weird british cuisine that was on her plate was staring back at her.

and not when the telltale sensation of legilimency was trying creeping through the back of her mind. she looked up and met his eyes, blinking as if she was bored. he wouldn't get in that easily.


	5. iii

october 1944

as promised, at exactly 8:45 sunday morning, riddle met her by the door of the common room. he flashed his enchanting smile at her (the same one he showed to headmaster dippet) as he held the common room door open for her. several pairs of eyes stared after them. _very gentlemanly, but manufactured._

"i believe we got off on the wrong foot yesterday," riddle said only a few steps outside their door. it was almost too perfect, as though he had rehearsed this speech many times over. "i apologize for being quite rude yesterday, and i hope you do not take that as a reflection of my character." she did not know which part he was apologizing for, but she knew he didn't mean it. he fucked up and an uglier piece of him slipped through the cracks; he was trying to make her forget she ever saw it. 

she considered his words for a moment. "no offense taken."

she stared analytically at the boy, digging deep into her memory to find all of the knowledge she had on reading body language, but he was completely shut off. he was very good at concealing the rage he had accidentally shown her last night, and it seemed as though he was trying to pretend it never happened. 

something about riddle was far different from the other students she had observed at hogwarts. she could not reliably read him, but the body language of the students who saw and interacted with them said enough about his personality, or at least his place at the school. people seemed to be enamored with him, terrified of him, or both, whereas sicaria was only curious. she felt like an outsider looking in, trying to find a trigger, or anything that would make him show his true personality. he was a puzzle that she needed to figure out.

this fixation was not good. she had a job to do.

"brilliant." he looked her in the eye as he said it, and she once again felt the telltale sensation of legilimency once again knocking on the back door of her memories. he was a powerful legilimens, and she sensed that he could definitely try harder than he was. he had underestimated her.

"tell me," she started, knowing this was likely a bad idea. "is legilimency part of the curriculum here?"

he gazed at her, not stopping in his stride. a mix between anger and intrigue flashed across his eyes before he responded to her. "no, but you'll find that _many_ students go out of their way for supplementary magical ability." it was a thinly concealed threat; she was impressed by how quickly he'd formulated that riposte. 

_good answer._ it reminded her of dumbledore.

she found herself almost wanting to laugh, and she probably would have if she wasn't so angry at the notion of him trying to invade her privacy. instead, she chose not to respond as she followed him throughout the halls toward horace slughorns' office. he did not speak to her again.

there were many students in the halls, most lounging around walls and talking amongst themselves and with portraits. oddly enough, when sicaria and tom passed students, many would have similar reactions. some would stare at tom, others would stare at sicaria. some glanced at tom and then quickly averted their gazes, and others made suggestive winks toward sicaria. it was gross, but it reminded her of home. _god how she did not miss the catcalls._

the pair reached his office door, and sicaria took a few moments to line up her thoughts in order. she reached into her filing cabinet in her mind and pulled out the envelopes she might need for this meeting. _be charming, be intelligent, be courteous, feign ambition._

upon entering slughorns office, she was overwhelmed, both by the state of the office and the man occupying it. she had never seen a room that was simultaneously messy and neat, but there was a first time for everything. stacks of papers, books, potions, and ingredients all lined the walls. she had to weave through cauldrons placed on the floor, but all placed in an intricate pattern.

they greeted each other, and sicaria registered that his persona was exactly that of the analytical sketch written in her report. he was just as jovial, loud, boisterous, and underhanded as it said he would be. she recalled mention of him having some sort of exclusive club, so she would have to ensure to put in her best academic work to make sure to be invited. he talked for a while, and asked her questions and answered them himself. finally, he seemed to remember the real reason for their conference.

"now here is your class schedule, my dear," he said handing her a thick piece of paper. she held it in her hands and looked over the classes. "dumbledore tells me you're quite the intelligent witch! because of your year, i've put you in all NEWT level courses, but if you find yourself overexerted, i'd be happy to remove some of the classes." 

she looked over them. 

_defense against the dark arts (she struggled not to scoff.)_

_potions_

_herbology_

_care of magical creatures_

_transfiguration (her easiest subject)_

_advanced arithmancy (her most difficult)_

_ancient runes_

_charms_

_magical theory (she knew everything there was to know about magical theories.)_

_easy enough,_ she thought to herself. "thank you, professor, but i think i'll be alright." she smiled politely at him. 

"how ambitious! perhaps this if foul of me, but i'd like to know your skill level. do you mind if i quiz you for a moment?" _yes, i do mind,_ she thought, but she shook her head nonetheless. she smiled graciously. 

"tell me, what is the incantation of the reversal for unsuccessful transfigurations?" she was honestly a little insulted; she could've answered this question at 7 years old. 

" _reparifarge,_ sir." she said. a constant one she had to use during her _experiments_ with magical transfiguration theory. 

"and what is the use of a chizpurfle carpace?" he asked, upping the difficulty, but only slightly.

"it is a removed part of a magical parasites that is used in antidotes for uncommon poisons." again, this was something that a field agent for a governing body had to know. when determining someone has been poisoned, the effects of the poison determine which general antidote should be used; a bezoar or the chizpurfle carpace.

"excellent! are you proficient in nonverbal magic?" he asked, beaming, though sicaria could see the wheels turning in the back of his head. when she once again nodded, he looked at her expectantly, egging her on to perform a spell. 

she thought for a moment, and then pointed her want at a stack of papers on his desk. she thought about the incantation _relinquo reditus mutatio_ and the pair watched as the papers folded themselves into origami birds, and flew around the office, before returning back to the previous spot on the desk, as if it never moved. 

slughorn clapped very quickly and very suddenly, which made her flinch. after another short lecture from slughorn about courses and graduation (several complements about how skilled she was), she was finally free to leave. 

she didn't know what to make of slughorn yet. he was annoying, and he was definitely a user, but he seemed to be a relatively good man. she couldn't blame him for being self-preserving; she would be too if not under threat of prison time. sometimes she liked to imagine what it would be like to only have to worry about her own life they way he worried about his. she imagined her life if could inherit her parents estate (once it was out of litigation) and take a few years just to live and travel the world. then, she'd settle down and get a job, but wouldn't get married or have kids. she'd just die of old age and have her assets liquidated. nowadays, she found herself not particularly caring whether she lived or died, but she survived, if only purely out of spite. she hated this life, but she didn't want to die. she just didn't want to live. 

if she died though, she didn't want it to be for macusa. she wanted to go out on her own terms.

sometimes she pretended to be a theist and believe in god; and hope that when she died, she'd be reincarnated into a life where she got all the things she didn't get to have in this one. 

these thought's carried her all the way back to her dorm room. sicaria felt like a recluse, spending hours upon hours hiding away in her dorm, but she needed to come up with some sort of plan to get into the pureblood circle. the one that macusa came up with was incredibly stupid. it was the plan formed by fifty-year-olds who hadn't been in contact with a teenager since their own kids grew up. 

she had several plans, but her first one went as such. 

_1\. find and infiltrate the friend group with the most pureblood heirs_

_2\. befriend them, and hopefully be introduced to their connections_

_3\. report the minimal findings on grindelwald_

this plan would take too much time. she was still frustrated as to how they expected her to get any information about grindelwald out of a bunch of teenagers. 

if she asked about grindelwald to someone who was not a supporter, they'd likely report her and try to have her arrested. if she asked about him to someone who was affiliated, they'd be suspicious of her motives immediately. 

she thought for a couple more minutes and weighed over the options in her brain again, before deciding on the plan that was (somewhat) disregarding what the counsel had asked of her. her quill scratched on a piece of paper as she spoke her thoughts out loud. she cherished the moments when she didn't have to store every bit of information into her brain. she felt like it was bursting at the seams most days.

_1\. befriend anyone who comes in contact with her_

_2\. get them alone for interrogation_

_3\. memory spell_

simple enough, and much more effective. this would become something of a revolving door, by which she would hustle people in and out of her life in attempts to get as much information from them as possible, without arousing suspicion. 

there had already been some interest in her, simply because she was new, pretty, and foreign. she could use this in her favor. she scowled at the thought. she would have to make herself _marketable_ to men in order to conduct any long form interrogations. to get them alone for the three hours it took for long-term veritaserum to work would be impossible without the implication of sex. she had no qualms with women who did what they wanted with their bodies; if they wanted that liberating lifestyle then good for them. it made her ill to think about putting herself in that position though; letting men think she was easy. no matter how much a woman insisted that she was the one using the man, the man would always think that he was the one using the woman. men were easy and arrogant, not realizing that they were the desperate ones. she couldn't stand the thought of a man thinking that he was pulling a fast one on her.

she thought for a moment about dumbledore, and if he would approve of her methods, but she found herself not particularly caring because he wasn't doing much to guide her through the mission anyway. all he did was give her piercing looks and talk in poem stanzas like a lunatic.

she glanced over to her drawer and thought about doing a small line, but she shook her head. she couldn't afford an outburst right now, not when she had just began her task. she chastised herself for even planting the idea in her head. 

sicaria smiled wryly at herself, deciding this was going to be one of those "excruciating self control" days. 

_god, you are a fucking mess._


	6. iv

october 1944

sicaria's first week of classes went better than she could have hoped for. peoples curiosity of her was only heightened, seeing as most people had only seen her with tom riddle and albus dumbledore, and this fascination of the student body made it easy for her to talk to more people. she also spent a lot of time with venus, but that was less for companionship and more for her explanation of different social classes (sicaria used legilimency on her and saw no connections to grindelwald, so she thought it fair not to interrogate her). she had yet to conduct any interrogations, but as she met people, her priority list only grew. she had names upon names of people who were outstanding from the rest, whether it be by money, popularity, or blood status, all of which were traits of the average grindelwald supporter. 

it was a long list. she had to figure out a way to narrow it down. she couldn't interrogate the entire student body. 

she had a menagerie of different tactics to add to her list of persons of interest. she would purposefully bump into people, framing it as an accident, and take note of their reactions. she would act as though she was lost, and ask for directions, and note how kind or how rude the person was to her. it reminded her of new york, but she kept herself busy enough so she would not have time to be homesick. she noticed how people spoke, walked, and interacted with their fellow students but also their teachers. each little difference conveyed something deeper about the character of the person. of course, the list was broad, but she had to start somewhere.

also, any boy with the boldness to flirt with her was added to the list. 

as venus explained to her, boys at hogwarts were competitive when it came to women. sicaria was new merchandise for each boy at the school to try to acquire. she was new, and interesting, and seen with riddle, which "upped her market value" as venus so obscenely put it. the boys were tired of the same witches they had known since they were 11, and sicaria was certainly _out of the ordinary._ these sentiments only rekindled her deep seated hatred for men. it was somewhat of an unspoken competition, to see which wizard would be the first to have a breakthrough with her. she was everyone's new interest, and she used it to her advantage. _ask not what you can do for misogyny, but what misogyny can do for you._

this dynamic made her reflect on her previous relationships. she lost her virginity at 16 in the back closet at a macusa gala. andre. he was the son of one of the department heads, and they snuck off together sometime during the night when neither of their parents were paying attention. she never saw him again. then there was reggie. she dated him for two months before her parents decided that he was a distraction and forced her to break up with him. she didn't but then her parents threatened him, and he broke up with her a week after. it was only a few months later that her parents died. on the one year anniversary, she went to 'celebrate' one night at a muggle club and met a waitress by the name of natasha. they had a series of hookups lasting for about a week until she got whisked away to spain for macusa. she'd slept with one man and one woman since natasha, but she couldn't remember their names, nor how recent they were aside from they definitely happened after she turned 18. she wondered if andre had saw himself as using her, though their brief encounter was decidedly mutual.

sicaria was a beautiful witch, but the constant male attention was not something she was particularly used to. most were just sly flirts, and offerings to help guide her around the castle and help her with homework. some seemed to make a spectacle out of it, talking to her while his friends laughed and pointed behind him. it took everything in her power to not hex the boy and all his friends, but she remembered that she had to keep up her act. cursing people was clearly not the best way to make herself approachable, so she settled for telling the boy to _go fuck himself._

vulgar? yes. unladylike? definitely. regretted? not in the slightest.

still, the attention unnerved her.

as she expected, the coursework was easy enough that she could complete it in class and still be able to have her mind on other topics while working. she'd met a few people who were smart enough to (almost) keep up with her, and entertaining enough to talk to. _roger_ _davies, adonis rosier, adrien lestrange, calypso khatri, josilyn aetos,_ and some others who's names she couldn't remember. most of the teachers seemed to take quite a liking to her. she thought this was mostly due to her charming persona, but a great deal of it also had to do with her uniquely advanced magical ability. to them, she was a 17-year-old american, but in reality she was 18. she didn't think this one year difference would make such a gap between her and the majority of her fellow students, but she thought that perhaps her life _experience_ made her more versed in the edges and limitations of magic. that, or perhaps because her parents had been thoroughly training her since before she was legally allowed to own a wand. 

she frequently found herself being the center of attention in class, unable to restrain her need to feel intelligent. she put in her best effort into all her classes, which did not go unnoticed by her peers. her teachers were impressed, but her magical proficiency only drew more fascination to her. _slow down and contain yourself. don't be suspicious._ many just assumed the coursework in america was more advanced (it wasn't).

of course, her talent did not go unrivaled. in all but one of her classes, tom riddle was constantly her near-equal when it came to knowledge and magical ability. every time he saw her, he seemed to stiffen and his competitive nature drove him to want to be better than the girl who threatened his superiority. he refused to believe that he was smarter than him. or more powerful. or more threatening.

in all honesty, he wanted to kill her. 

he wanted to shatter her so badly that she would never raise her hand to answer a question again in his presence. he wanted to hurt her so viciously that she would never again act like she wasn't _terrified of him._ he wanted to ruin every single part of her magical being until she was _mortified_ of him.

perhaps that was what angered him most. it infuriated him that she did not cower at his glare, that she stared right back when he looked down at her. she didn't view herself as inferior to him, and it was driving him insane. he thrived off of the anxiety that he evoked in his fellow students. it made him feel deity-like. her constant composure in his presence left much to be desired. instead, she observed him, acting like she knew something about him that he didn't. she had so quickly done what many had failed to do, which was make him show another, eviler side of himself. she didn't even seem to notice how easy it was for him to break under her minimal pressure. 

in fact, her apathy toward him felt downright patronizing. like she had slapped him in the face.

he often found himself wondering why he felt this way. it was one silly little girl, so why was he so maddened by it? before she had arrived, there was an unspoken rule. everyone was intimidated by tom riddle. including his friends and including his teachers. but enter a random girl who does not seem unnerved by him in the slightest. how _dare_ she not recognize him as better than her? how dare she not pay him the attention he so rightfully deserves? he tore his gaze away from her and back to their professor.

how he yearned to see her cowering beneath him. he wanted to see the terror in her face, and feel the pulse quicken and hear her racing thoughts. he wanted to see her at his mercy. where he was in control, and all she could do was _beg_ and _plead_ with him and the gods to stop him from hurting her. but he would continue to hurt her. again, and again, and again.

she was hiding something, and he wanted to make her break far more than she made him. he wanted to be the one who showed him what was beneath the surface of her mask.

he wanted her to react to him. 

surprisingly, sicaria did not pick up on this sinister fantasy of her classmates, and instead brushed it off as a bit of jealousy. perhaps he was the smartest student before she arrived, and he was upset now that she was getting the merits. she didn't much care about men disliking her, but she hated being disliked by other women. because of the male attention going toward her, she realized that it was out of a sense of competition for the women also. women competed for male attention in a different way that men competed for female attention. women were smarter and more mature, knowing they'd need husbands to survive. men wanted someone pretty so they could fuck. most other students did not seem to have that same loathing or desire for her, opting to be politely disinterested. it was refreshing.

the way that men competed for her attention was somewhat like a leaderboard. those who could hold conversation with her skyrocketed in status, meanwhile people like the boy she told to _go fuck himself_ fell drastically. being on the receiving end of her disdain made them targets for taunting, so boys trying to get with her attempted to make themselves feel smarter than her and mask their indecent actions with polite smiles. this strategy did not always work though, because her intelligence simply seemed to irritate some men. 

for example, potions class on friday. 

"would anyone like to tell me the properties of the sopophorus bean when _not_ in a potion?" slughorn posed the question to the class, and multiple hands went up, including tom and sicaria's. instead, slughorn called on a gryffindor that she did not recognize. 

"the bean has the ability to put the consumer into a deep sleep." he said confidently, but his expression slightly faltered when slughorn cleared his throat. 

"not quite. would anyone like to aid mr. taylor?" slughorn asked, and once again, sicaria's hand raised lazily in the air. she wasn't trying to spite _taylor_ at all when she went to answer; he just got the answer wrong and she was going to correct him. he did not take it so innocently. 

"yes, ms. edwards?" all eyes turned to her when slughorn called on her. he looked almost excited. 

"the sopophorus bean only has the property of sleep induction when in the draught of living death. when not it a potion, its primary function is to remove the memory of the consumer." she recited, looking only at slughorn. 

"marvellous, ms. edwards! ten points to slytherin!" he positively beamed at her, but both mr. taylor and mr. riddle seemed much less impressed. sicaria pretended not to notice. she kept to herself and her deskmate (the _lestrange_ gentleman) for the rest of the class period. when the time was finally up, slughorn asked her to stay behind for a moment. 

he beamed at her from his desk. "dumbledore was correct! you are quite the brilliant witch."

"thank you professor. that means so much coming from such an accomplished potioneer." _flattery. mens' egos make them so easy to manipulate._

"too kind you are! i expect you might be able to get your potions mastery certification straight away after graduation. anyways, i host several events for some of my more _ambitious_ students and i'd love for you to be in attendance! the next one is on halloween night, and i do hope to see you there." sicaria wondered if his face ever hurt from how often he held his smile. 

"i will be there, professor." she attempted to match the energy of his smile but failed miserably. there was simply no comparison to she sheer joy painted on his face. she was glad to finally get the invitation. she wondered for a while if slughorn was waiting it out, to see if she if she had big ambitions before allowing her to mingle with his crowd of elites. she found herself doing an internal celebration after walking out of class. _progress!_

for her next class of the day, she had defense against the dark arts. sicaria truly admired professor merrythought more than almost all her other professors (aside from dumbledore, who as annoyingly vague as he may be, was truthfully a brilliant professor). professor merrythought was so well versed in her ability and such a remarkable teacher that sicaria couldn't help but feel like she was still learning from her, though she already knew all the curriculum. 

today, they would be practicing dueling, she announced as the class walked through the door. many students groaned but others seemed quite excited. sicaria was indifferent. she would win a duel against whoever she was up against, but she did hope her opponent would at least pose a challenge. her mood then upturned though, because she realized that this would be a good chance to scope out those who had any extraordinary magical ability.

her wish was not granted. 

"i've paired you up already, randomly, and based on your performances today, i will have you duel again sometime in the near future with partners based on comparative ability." her voice was not magically amplified but it managed to captivate the attention of everyone in the room. she began to read off the names, most of them unrecognizable to sicaria, but catching some of them. 

_calypso khatri and thomas nott_

_blah blah blah_

_tom riddle and abraxas malfoy_

she stole a quick glance toward him, but he was looking at her already. he never bothered to hide when he was staring at her, nor did he seem to be embarrassed when his sudden bursts of legilimency failed due to her quick reactions. she forced herself not to make any reaction as she turned her eyes back to professor merrythought.

_venus davidson and adrien lestrange_

_blah blah_

_alexa carrow and persephone greengrass_

_blah blah blah_

_sicaria edwards and steven taylor_

_oh._

that was the gryffindor boy who she had corrected in potions earlier. she hoped there would be no hard feelings later, but she still decided to mess with him a little bit.

a duel was the perfect way to let off some steam, even though she always dueled with complete indifference. no emotion. she hadn't done any cocaine since her stay in hogsmeade, and had been craving an adrenaline rush, or some sort of emotional release. all of this being a stoic little good girl was eating away at her inside, and she needed to show some emotion soon or surely she'd have an outburst that she couldn't afford. she chose an emotion for this duel: vindictive. 

she watched the duels and made note of the students with more talent than the others. she made mental list to add them to her notes. upon riddle's turn to duel, he and abraxas malfoy were not at all evenly matched, though abraxas did try to put up a good fight. riddle was acting somewhat strange though, after every few curses, he would switch the tempo of the duel, making malfoy quick to defend. he was messing with malfoy, though he knew he could've ended the duel almost instantly. she was never first to break eye contact, not even flinching as he constantly glared at her. god, he was attractive when he dueled. the fluidity of his wandwork and the lazy expression painted on his face screamed arrogance, but for some reason, he made it look appealing. she refused to let herself dwell on his physique. he made quick work of malfoy and they sat down, malfoy seeming to expect this exact outcome. it was clear that the class was rather impressed with riddle's dueling ability, as was sicaria. she wondered if she would ever find out the motives for his constant dirty looks, but that was not the top of her priority list at the moment. 

when it was her turn to duel, she instinctively started to devise a strategy, quickly realizing that 1) none of this mattered, and 2) she could put up no fight and he would still lose. 

she decided to test that second theory. 

upon professor merrythought's "begin," steven quickly began to try to hex her almost immediately. if the duel was not going to be easy before, it certainly would be now. she didn't realize she was fighting a hormonal, angry teenage boy; how much easier of an opponent could there be?

she deflected all of his spells with ease. nonverbally.

he sent verbal curse after verbal curse, not once bothering to use a nonverbal spell. without moving from her standing position once, she flicked away each of the curses with a slight movement of her wand. her facial expression was mockingly disinterested; and perhaps it came off as haughty, because steven only got more angry. maybe his anger was more of a result at him being unable to hit her even once.

she sighed to herself slightly, still deflecting his every curse without so much as a bit of effort. it was getting boring now, so she decided to spice thing's up a bit. 

he sent a particularly weak " _stupefy_!" toward her, but instead of deflecting it, this time she redirected it so it hit him in the hand. not enough to knock him out, but enough to push him back a few feet. this only seemed to agitate him more. 

" _mors stimulus tuus!"_ he yelled a stinging jinx toward her, which she again redirected to hit him right in his wand arm. he groaned slightly at the pain, and sent another curse at her, which raised all the quills in the room and sent them flying toward her. some students gasped, but she did not flinch. 

she used a variation an impediment jinx and a cascading jinx to slow all of the quills without having to do each one individually. _magical theory really pays off._ she sent them flying back toward him, and he finally had the sense to put up a shield. didn't matter though, because all she did was have the quills for a circle at his feet. 

he managed to finally hit her with a tongue tying spell, but that hardly mattered since the majority of her magic had been nonverbal. still, she was angry that he had been able to hit her at all, so she decided that the duel was now over. _you've had your fun, just finish him. this is miserable to watch._

she thought of the incantation _cogentibus abiciant_ and sent the spell toward him. he tried to conjure a sheild, but the spell tore right through it. his body froze and he turned toward her. several students gasped, and professor merrythought looked somewhat troubled. her fingers twitched toward her wand instinctively, but knew that a student wouldn't use any lethal curses in her classroom, least of all a new student.

she turned her wand on herself and cast _finite incantatem_ to reverse the tongue tying jinx. she then turned to steven and spoke. 

"do you think you have lost this duel?" she asked him. riddle stared at her. he had never seen this spell. that made him livid.

"yes, i have." he smiled dopily and his eyes were glazed over. he swayed slightly on the spot. several students laughed, and professor merrythought looked somewhat amused. for a moment, she thought that her young student had dared use the imperious curse in her class, but this was clearly something much less sinister. 

"are you going to drop your wand now?" she asked, smiling slightly. 

"yes, i am." he continued that same dopey smile, and is wand fell out of his grasp. she used wandless magic, instinctually and irresponsibly, to bring it toward her. the classed seemed shocked by this, as no one knew of any other student who could master wandless magic with the ease that she had. it was a mindless reaction and only at the gasps did she realize what she had done, and chose to distract them. _if you reveal something you weren't supposed to, deflect and distract to make it seem like it's not a big deal. people forget when you don't overreact._

"am i a better duelist than you?" 

"yes, you are." the class laughed at him. she thought she could just barely see a smile play at merrythought's lips. 

" _libertas cogitandi_ _."_ she casted the counterspell, and he awoke from his trance with a start and fell hard on his ass, making the class laugh even louder. 

"brilliant work!" professor merrythought said in the direction of the pair, but the whole room knew it was only aimed to one student. she tossed his wand back to him. it hit him right in the hands, but he still did not manage to catch it. he was red with anger.

"that's all for today, now remember your essay..." professor merrythought dismissed the class and all had begun to leave before she called for sicaria to stay behind, the second time today a teacher has asked her to stay after class. 

merrythought smiled at her and quirked an eyebrow as she sat against the edge of a desk. "what was that last spell you used?" she asked to sicaria's surprise. 

"um it was just a compulsion hex, professor. it causes the victim to say yes to whatever question i ask. it takes less effort to resist than it does the imperious curse." she explained. 

"and the countercurse?" merrythought prodded. 

" _libertas cogitandi_. it means freedom of thought, whereas the curse, _cogentibus abiciant,_ means compulsive answer." she said, and merrythought considered her for a second before nodding. 

"you're quite the powerful duelist sicaria. i'd ask to duel you myself if it were not against the code of conduct." both women laughed. "might i ask where you learned that spell?" 

sicaria stilled and her expression remained impassive. she tried to quickly come up with an explanation that would look inconspicuous, but before she could, professor merrythought said, "nevermind, i let my curiosity get the better of me. you best be off, you'll be late for dinner." 

merrythought knew something, but sicaria couldn't tell what. regardless, she seemed like a trustworthy woman, so she did not pry into her answer. she bid professor merrythought goodnight as the older woman pat her young protégé on the shoulder. 

sicaria made her way down the hallway, trying to recall all the names of the students she had meant to add to her list of persons of interest. the tapping of her feet on the floor echoed in the silence, as most students were already at dinner. her whole head was fuzzy as she made a mental file of each name: _seven from transfiguration, three from potions, twelve from defense against-_

"theres the broad that thought she could try to embarrass me like that and get away with it." a voice called out to her.

"broad? that's a new one." she said before she could stop herself. _damn my instigating tongue._

in front of her was steven taylor and three gryffindor boys, each with their wands out. 


	7. v

october 1944

how did she get herself into situations like this? constantly being ambushed verbally, physically, and magically in a wide range of situations (most of which were caused by her way with words). she thought that perhaps this was entirely her own fault. in a room full of government agents, she could be sarcastic and condescending without having to worry about consequences, but teenage boys with ego's are not as immune to the temptation of vengeance. 

"shut up," steven snarled at her. he and the three boys walked toward her. she thought about running, but her instincts always told her never to turn her back on anyone holding a wand. instead, she stepped back, keeping her confident expression, but still ensuring that the boys could not surround her. _rule one, never get yourself surrounded. if you do, you're fucked._ her eyes glanced at each of them, trying to single out the weakest link. she settled for the tall, blond-haired boy with the red tie around his neck done incorrectly. his expression was false determination, but his body language showed that he really had no desire to be here. 

_fight or flight._

her mind raced for a moment at the possibilities of where this could go. she could duel them, and though she was easily more magically talented, dueling four-on-one would be somewhat difficult, even if her opponents were incompetent. she could cast a shield behind her and run, but her pride would never allow her to run from a challenge unless she knew she had no chance of winning, and she thought she had a good chance at winning this one if she could scheme. she took a moment and then looked steven directly in the eye before diving into his mind.

legilimency is different for everyone, but sicaria was a natural at it. after years of practice, she mastered the art of sorting through memories, and learning how to bring certain ones to the forefront of the brain. she could go in quickly and unnoticed, slipping between thoughts and memories without alerting them or causing any noticeable disturbance. 

she could have used legilimency in a much more painful way, giving him a migraine so bad that his limbs would go weak, but that would mean exposing herself as a legilimens, which she wanted to keep up her sleeve for the time being. nobody needed to know.

she saw the memory of them planning to corner her after professor merrythought asked her to stay behind. she saw them discussing which hallway she would be most likely to go down. she saw them come up with some dimwit strategy to try to attack her. she saw what they said they would _do_ to her. she saw what he felt in that moment, that hormonal desire for sick, twisted revenge for something that no one would remember in a few weeks. the male ego was very fragile.

_"when she comes round the corner, just everyone surround her."_

she pulled out of his mind, and no time had passed. his memory gave her a bit of insight. they intended this to end in violence, so she would not be able to talk their way out of this one. she couldn't help but think to herself that if they were smart, they would have sent a spell at her before she had a chance to react. _fucking idiots._

perhaps this was a gryffindor trait; seeing everything as a battle when many situations can be won with simple strategy. running to a fire where there was no smoke.

"aren't gryffindors supposed to be the brave ones? you need your three stooges to take me on?" she taunted. no one dueled well when they were overcome with any emotion. she had an entire lifetime of shutting out emotions (aside from when she was intoxicated) which made it natural for her to not feel anything, but it never got easier. this was why when working, she had to shut down her emotions completely; not a safe practice, but effective in the moment. sure, anger might make the spells come out more powerfully, but it clouded the mind to strategy and accuracy, making your moves predictable and insubstantial. to be a good duelist, you have to know how to compartmentalize passion and not let it cloud judgement. 

"you shut your bleeding mouth!" he roared at her. he was clearly on the verge of raging.

she had to think carefully and quickly. as soon as the first spell was cast, it would not cease until she was incapacitated, or she had successfully disarmed all four of the boys still closing in on her. she needed to make sure she casted the first spell. and ensured that it disarmed one of the boys so the ensuing duel would only be three versus one. her eyes flitted across all of them as her thoughts rushed across her brain. she willed them to slow down; if she started thinking too many things at once, they'd cloud her ability to focus on one thought at all.

_strategy. think back to your strategy._

if she egged them on a little bit more, she could get one of them to point their wand directly at her. then she would have cause to plead self defense if this made it back to the headmaster. it was too soon at her new school to be picking fights, and that would not help her to remain inconspicuous. 

"attacking a woman? how chivalrous of you." she leered. "and the british say americans are disrespectful."

"i'm warning you," he snarled, fingers twitching around his wand. the boy on the direct left kept stealing glances at him, seeming to try to knock him out of whatever rage-fueled fit he was throwing. "if you know what's good for you, you'd shut your sodding mouth.''

she considered him for a moment. none of the other boys moved until he did, showing that he was the leader of this whole operation (obviously, he was the only one with a vendetta against her). she would take him out first to destabilize whatever bullshit tactic they had come up with to fight her. it was like taking out the queen to destabilize the pawns. 

"or what?"

"or i'll make you." he pointed his wand at her. _finally._

before he could even start to mutter a spell, she had already sent a silent _stupefy_ his way. it hit him right in the stomach, and he folded as if he was shot by a canon. almost instantly, the remaining three began shooting spells at her. 

as she had hoped, the bit of planning they did have seemed to fail when the leader went down. their antithesis to her strategy was randomness, not counterstrategy, which would have been more effective if they had any variety of spells to use against her. not that they were probably capable of any strategy against her aside from the obvious one: ambush, but it seemed that had not even crossed their minds. 

stunning spell after petrification jinx after leg locking curse after _expelliarmus_. all deflected and redirected with relative ease. of course, fighting three people at once would be more difficult than one-on-one, but they were all terrible wizards in comparison to sicaria. she thought for a moment she sensed a presence behind her, and could not spare a glance, so she redirected a stunning spell one of them had sent behind her in hopes that if there was someone there, they'd have been hit. oddly, she didn't hear it collide with a person, nor the wall behind her, but she couldn't spare it a thought right now.

next, she redirected a disarming charm toward the wizard she had marked as the weakest link. his wand flew out of his hand, and she summoned it to her wandlessly, while using her other hand to put up a shield toward the final two. she had to physically dodge a few particularly sloppily aimed spells.

they clearly did not have a broad spell syllabus, because the patterns of spells they used became rather repetitive. the same four spells used over and over again. it was easy for sicaria to predict what spells they would use next, but she didn't really need to. all the spells they used could be shielded by a simple _protego._

she did a severing charm on one of the boys, which cut a shallow line across the back of his hand, making him drop his wand, and then did a disarming charm to the last one. he deflected it, but his reaction was slowed as she was able to easily send a second (successful) disarming charm to him. 

the duel ended with her holding five wands, staring down the gryffindors who had attempted to attack her. pointing her wand at the unconscious one, she uttered the spell, _"reneverate."_

he sprang to his feet, waving his hand as though he still had a wand, until he realized that he didn't. none of them made any move, and she leered. she took a step forward and two of them flinched back. the other two did not move. steven balled his fists like he wanted to physically attack her, but was smart enough to know that was a bad idea. 

"fucking idiots. all of you." what could she do now? she thought about taking them all back to professor merrythought's office and letting them deal with her, but before she could consider it any further, she heard footsteps behind her. 

wheeling around, she aimed her wand in the direction of the sound. she saw riddle turning the corner, and suddenly, all the wands she was holding (except hers) flew into his open palm. an invisible force pushed her wand arm down so that it was not aimed toward him. 

"attacking your fellow students on school premises is prohibited. 20 points from gryffindor for each of you. you can get your wands from the headmasters office later." he said with air of finality. none of them made any move to leave. it was clear that they wanted their wands now, as if they were terrified that she would curse them in their backs if they turned away from her. 

" _leave."_ riddle said menacingly, venom dripping from his voice. he seemed irrationally angry, and sicaria wondered why he was so upset. surely this wasn't an uncommon occurrence; students dueling in the corridor. she found herself slightly angry too. sure, she knew she wasn't going to lose the duel, but he had clearly seen the whole thing if he knew that it was them who had attacked her, so why not step in and "save" her? why would the head boy just let a student get attacked? furthermore, why was he in position to see them ambush her anyway? too many questions were swirling around her brain.

the gryffindors scattered, all leaving in the same direction, but making sure to take several glances back toward them to make sure they weren't being chased. she heard what sounded like a pane of glass break in the distance. 

"waiting in the wings to have a go at me?" she started. she was smart enough to know that this wasn't his true motive, but she needed something to say. he stared at her with only contempt in his gaze. she realized that it had been him behind her that dispersed the stunning spell, but hadn't notice any of them react, so perhaps he was disillusioned. "how did you get rid of that stunning spell?"

when a spell is deflected, it always hit something. whether it be a person, a wall, or a shield, the spell always made an impact, unless he redirected it and she was too occupied to notice. 

"who is your teacher?" he asked, somehow managing to have his jaw still firmly clenched. he ignored both of her questions.

"what?" she blanked. saying "what" when trying to stall to come up with a lie was one of the worst things you could do. it made it obvious that a lie was coming, but she couldn't stop the word before it came out of her mouth.

"you're an occlumens. you understand advanced magical spell theory. you know spells that our professors haven't seen, and you _somehow_ know nonverbal magic, so i'll ask again. _who is your teacher?"_ he asked, stepping closer and closer toward her. he started to move into the range of space where there was too little distance between the two to cast a spell, so she forced herself to take a step back. something flickered in his eyes. it resembled triumph.

"i went to school in america. the coursework there is-" she started with an obvious lie, but he cut her off. 

"do you take me for a fool?" he questioned, taking more steps toward her, as she simultaneously stepped back. he was obviously angered by her lie, but he also gloating as he watched her back away from him. he towered over her, his height looming over her. she forced her face not to betray her with an expression of slight intimidation. 

she flinched as he grabbed her wrist, inspecting her wand in her hand. his touch was electrifying, for some reason, and she snatched her arm back very quickly. anything to get away from his hand. this was a new development for him, this being the first time he broke the touch barrier. he relished in the way his touch could affect her, but put it in his back pocket for later. he had more pressing matters to attend to. 

"no, but i assumed a bad enough lie would get you to mind your business before i had to say the words myself. now, if you'll excuse me." she stepped backward a few more steps, not taking her eyes off of him, and then turned the corner to the left of her. 

she heard him call after her, "i can be rather convincing, ms. edwards. you can't evade me forever." but he did not follow after her. 

sicaria found her way through the hallways and stopped by the great hall only for a second to tell venus not to wait up on her. she than walked as quickly as she could back to her dorm, planning on locking herself inside until tomorrow morning. 

her adrenaline was rushing thoroughly now, and she did a quick-quotes spell to write out all her notes. her brain was moving at a faster pace than her hand could've even attempted to write at.

she listed all of the names from earlier in the day, and she also drafted a letter to her handler as her biweekly update. every two weeks, she was required to send a letter of any developments in her investigations, but because this was her first one, there was not much to report. the letter included a short summary of her infiltration into the social scene of the school, and broke down the method she was using to specify certain student's of interest. she planned on conducting her first investigations tomorrow, so she would add her notes for that later. 

as for the earlier confrontation, she chose not to stress herself out over it. she had fought off much more powerful wizards and much more sinister creatures, and would not let herself be intimidated by a bunch of teenage boys. 

_only one teenage boy._

something about riddle shook sicaria. his blatant fixation on peeling away the layers of her lies made her wonder if he was going to become a liability. from what everyone knew about her, there was no possible way for someone to draw the conclusion that she was a government agent, so until it came to that point, she would just come up with better lies that made sense in the context of her created backstory. 

and then she thought back to his touch. it was not gentle, but not rough. the sensation she felt when he touched her was jarring to say the least. she had been attracted to and had relations with other men before, but their skin against hers never lingered him her mind the way this did. she wondered if riddle noticed, and if he was going to use it against her if he did realize. she shook her head at the notion.

she paced around her room in thought. the lamp was off, so the only light source she had was the dim, blue-green gleam of the black lake coming through her window. it was beautiful to look at, but it certainly dampened the mood of the room, making it feely gloomy and bleak. the room looked haunted, and she looked like a phantom gloating around it. it was a peaceful place to think.

she rehearsed the answers in her backstory over and over again, so that the next time anyone asked about her past, she would be prepared to give a natural sounding response. 

staring in the mirror, she nodded at herself. 

_no more slip ups,_ she scolded herself. _nothing else will distract me._

for now.


	8. vi

october 1944

today was the day. the first set of interrogations. 

sicaria sat at the breakfast table, absentmindedly listening to venus reciting transfiguration notes. she went through her list of prospect targets for today. 

_galleria mercanthy, fifth year_

_hector harley, seventh year_

_abraxas malfoy, seventh year_

_caroline macmillan, sixth year_

she had plans to get to each of them today. most were foolproof. 

galleria wasn't particularly bright, but her family was rich. her last name had big connections to ministry families that were notoriously corrupt, so it wasn't a wild guess that she'd have a bit of knowledge. sicaria noticed daily that she left for the prefects bathroom about thirty minutes before breakfast ended. she knew the prefects had specific times to access the bathroom, so no one else would be in there right now. 

she made sure not to stare at the girl; people were watching her. she just made sure to note when she left, and bit her goodbyes to venus early. she was droning on about adonis rosier anyway, and sicaria hardly felt like listening. she stepped out the great hall, casting a disillusionment and silencing charm on herself before rushing to catch up with galleria. the fifth year muttered the password and stepped into the bathroom, sicaria slipping in silently behind her. before galleria had a chance to do anything but drop her bag, sicaria stunned her and she crumpled to the ground. 

quickly, she conjured a bench and laid the girl on there. sicaria opened gallerias' mouth and poured short-term veritaserum in there. she conjured a magical hourglass which counted down the nine minutes left until the potency of the potion decreased. after nine minutes, wizards could fight the effects. they'd be compelled to tell the truth, but could choose to say nothing if lucid enough. then, she cast the spell " _memorias obstructionum"_ on the girl. this would stop her from collecting any memories until she casted the countercurse. she pointed her wand at the door and cast a complex locking charm, just in case. 

finally, she cast " _nolite pugnare_ " (caused the victim to resist the urge to fight their circumstances) and reneverated the girl. galleria sat up and looked at sicaria, her eyes milky white (symptom of the memory charm). she sat silently. 

"who are you?" galleria asked, her voice slurred because of the veritaserum. since she was asking a question and not responding to one, her speech would be incoherent. 

sicaria started the magical recording device that transcribed all the words said into written records. the quill stood ready to write down every word spoken in this room.

"what is your name and age?" sicaria said, starting the first phase of questioning. identity.

"galleria elanor mercanthy, 15." her voice was smooth and fragile, almost like glass.

"what are your parents and siblings names and ages."

"mother: abigail collins-mercanthy 37. father: daniel mercanthy 44. brother: carson daniel mercanthy 19. sister: isabella jane mercanthy 6."

"are you a pureblood?"

"no."

"are your parents?"

galleria did not respond and looked immensely troubled. she started to hyperventilate. sicaria forgot she had to ask direct questions only, and "are your parents?" is not an answerable question.

"disregard that last question."

"okay." her expression immediately calmed. 

"are your parents pureblood?"

"my father is pureblood. my mother is a mudblood." a look of disgust settled upon her face.

"who knows about your mothers blood status?" sicaria threw in questions that were not directly following the recommended line of questioning, but a good interrogator knows to look for information in many different places. 

"only my family except my brother and sister. she tells everyone she is halfblood."

"do you know who gellert grindelwald is?"

"yes."

"do you have any connection to him?"

"i have seen him in person. my father attended several of his rallies."

"do any of your family members work for grindelwald?" she asked. phase two of questioning. sicaria's favorite part of her work might be interrogations. she wasn't a sadist; torturing people for information was cruel but also unreliable. people would say anything to get the pain to stop. she preferred forcing the victim to tell the truth, which was perhaps just as cruel. 

"not directly." drool dribbled down galleria's chin.

she almost started to say, _elaborate_ but remembered the direct questions.

"what is your family's connection to grindelwald?" she settled on.

"my father knows someone in the ministry who works for grindelwald. he spoke once about getting my brother to work for grindelwald through him. my brother is an avid grindelwald fanatic."

"what is the name of the person your father knows in the ministry who works for grindelwald?"

galleria once again looked very pained. she struggled and a groaning sound sputtered out of her. sicaria eyed the hourglass, to see if this was just a reaction to her attempting to lie, but it showed she still had four minutes until the effect began to wear off. she considered her question again, but it was very specific. 

"disregard the last question."

"okay." she relaxed.

"do you know the name of the person your father knows in the ministry who works for grindelwald?"

"no."

"would you be able to identify the person your father knows in the ministry who works for grindelwald?"

"no."

sicaria sighed. it was good information, but everyone knew grindelwald had spies in the ministry. at least macusa would have a lead to look into mercanthy affiliations. she now began the third phase of questioning. 

"are you a pureblood supremacist?"

"yes." _you're literally half blood._ sicaria rolled her eyes, but continued on.

"are you in a pureblood supremacist organization?"

"no."

"do you see yourself joining a pureblood supremacist organization in the future?"

"i want to join grindelwalds ranks. my father says that is not a place for women. my mother threatened to disown me."

"does grindelwald not take women in his ranks?" she knew this to be untrue, but perhaps galleria had some insight. 

"he does. my father and many old pureblood families are very conservative about the place of women in wartime."

"do you know any students at this school with connections to grindelwald?"

"yes."

"name the students and families you know with connections to grindelwald."

she begin to rattle off a long list of names, but her voice began to falter. her body started to move more fluidly before she zipped her mouth completely, and groaned. the time had run out. 

"fuck." sicaria sighed. she didn't get all the information, but she got a good amount. she wanted to re-dose her with veritaserum, but that high of a concentration has noticeable effects, which would lead her to getting taken to the hospital wing. a quick diagnostic would show the amount in her blood, which would not be good for sicaria. 

she stunned galleria again, and she laid down on the bench. sicaria was feeling a bit vindictive at her idiotic views, so she let her roll of the bench on to the floor, where she plopped down, not hard enough to bruise. 

she vanished all the potions and the timer, and then vanished the bench. sicaria disillusioned and silenced herself once again, and then cast nonverbally _finite_ at galleria, to lift the enchantments. sicaria removed her locking charm on the door, and she was half way out before muttering _adhuc recordabor_ to allow her to start making memories again, and then _reneverate_ to remove the stunning spell. before she could even push herself off the ground, sicaria was out the door. thankfully, no one was around to see the prefects bathroom door open and close while no one was there. 

sicaria quickly made her way to the nearest empty bathroom and locked herself in a stall before removing the silencing and disillusioning charm on herself. she composed herself and smiled. her first interrogation was a success. well, successful in the sense that she had managed to pull it off without being seen. she quickly got her emotions in check before stepping out of the stall and exiting the bathroom toward her dorm. 

_one down, three to go._

she rushed back up to her dorm to rid herself of the potion she used on galleria. if she was caught in any situation, that evidence was both damning and suspicious. she also deposited her transcript of the interrogation in a locked secret drawer that was under the floorboard of her bed. she grabbed a new vial of the potion for her next target and transfigured it into a handkerchief before putting it in her bag. she stood for three seconds to calm her breathing and make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. she glanced over to the dresser and looked at the drawer containing her supply. she entertained the thought of doing a celebratory line, but she quickly dismissed it. she had several more classes and more interrogations today, and she could risk being high and possibly having an outburst. she needed her head to be clear. 

_stop thinking about cocaine, sicaria._ she thought to herself. _you sound like an addict._

and with that, she was off. 

she barely made it to transfiguration on time. she sauntered through the door quietly, and dumbledore looked at her for a moment. he nodded infinitesimally at her, before smiling to the class. "let's begin."

she surveyed the room, and due to her tardiness, there was only one seat left. right next to tom riddle. she reluctantly slid into the seat next to him, deliberately not looking at him. she sat on the farthest edge of her seat away from him, as if he would suddenly reach over and strangle her. 

he noticed, and smirked slightly, but did not take his eyes off of the front of the room where dumbledore was starting his lecture on molecular transfiguration. 

"how nice of you to join us." riddle whispered. his lips hardly moved, and for a moment, sicaria wondered if she had just imagined it. 

"got lost." she grumbled, pulling out her textbook as dumbledore instructed them to do so.

"liar." he hissed. 

she didn't respond. he didn't know what she was doing, so why would it matter what answer she gave him? 

"professor?" he suddenly announced out, raising his hand. sicaria flinched so slightly that only he and dumbledore noticed. "i've forgotten my book."

the class was somewhat shocked. perfect, head boy riddle not prepared for class? imagine the scandal. dumbledore made a pointedly skeptical look at him, but sighed saying. "that's alright, mr. riddle. be prepared next class. for today, just share with your deskmate."

sicaria then realized that he had not forgotten his book at all, he was just looking for a chance to unnerve her. _clever._

he nodded at dumbledore, and slid almost uncomfortably close to sicaria. she fought a grimace and kept her face neutral. many students stole glances in their direction when they thought dumbledore wasn't looking. funnily enough, dumbledore never missed anything that went on in his classroom.

sicaria placed the book in the space on the desk between them, and he reached for the corner to turn to the page dumbledore instructed. he intentionally brushed her fingers and she pulled back as though he had burned her. she knew he had won this round. he had realized that his touch made her give some kind of reaction, though he didn't know the source. he would prey on this.

she did not reach toward the book again.

"now," dumbledore said. he flicked his wand and paper worksheets appeared in front of everyone. "fill out these forms based on the lesson i just gave. if you finish before class time is over, you may leave. if not, finish it as homework and be prepared to turn it in next class."

his eyes glazed over the class before he sat down at his desk. the room was much less quiet, as people scrambled to work with their deskmates, and no longer was anyone looking at the pair in the back corner of the room. 

sicaria scribbled furiously on her work. she wrote her answers down so quickly that they were almost illegible. she was looking very intently at her paper, ignoring the gaze she felt on the side of her face. he watched her in amusement and interest as she rushed through her work just to get away from him. _why was she so ready to be away from him?_ maybe she finally recognized him as her superior. he felt high on the thought. 

"edwards." he said. 

she ignored him. 

"edwards," he said in a hostile voice.

she still did not respond. 

_how rude,_ he thought to himself. _i'll just have to teach her a lesson._

he leaned over silently, right next to her ear and whispered. "don't disregard me, sicaria."

against her will, she jolted. his wand and threats didn't phase her, but his proximity did. he was having fun watching her flinch every time his touch lingered on her. the feel of his hands seemed to affect her so much more than his verbal cruelty ever could.

she shoved him away slightly. "what now?" she muttered angrily as she continued to fill in her answers. he shook his head slightly. 

"look at me when you speak to me." he commanded, and surprisingly, she obliged. 

"what do you want?" she prompted angrily, but quiet enough that no one overheard her. she was looking directly in his eyes. his eyes were rather captivating, but his smooth, demanding voice interrupted their staring contest.

he smiled sweetly. "may i borrow a quill?"

"use your own damn quill."

"it seems i've forgotten that as well."

she fought the urge to say, "bullshit," and instead, used wandless magic to levitate her worst quill to land right on the desk in front of him. she turned back to her work. 

he had gotten what he wanted for the day, just to mess with her a bit. he was still distrustful of her, and still wanted to find out about her identity, but what bad could possibly come from teasing her a bit? he'd have to get her attitude in check though; no one spoke to him the way she did. _she'll soon learn not to._

meanwhile, sicaria was on her last question, but she was hesitating to answer. the strawberry blonde boy she was watching was not quite finished yet. hector harley. she would follow him out and there was an abandoned classroom on the way back to his dorm, which she could quickly force him into. 

finally, he finished his assignment, and began to pack up his things. once he had reached the door, sicaria hurried to dumbledore's desk, placing the assignment on it. she mumbled a quick goodbye before returning to her seat and packing up her book quickly. she stormed off, but stalled only for a moment when riddle called back to her. 

"edwards," he said, searching to see why she was so obviously rushing. his eyes darted across her face and body for any clue as to what was going on, but found nothing. she was lucky that he was the only one who paid so much detailed attention to the intricacies of her actions. "your quill." he reached his hand with the quill in it toward her. she rolled her eyes.

"keep it." she sneered, and headed out the door. 

once alone, she disillusioned and silenced herself once more. she almost sprinted to find hector before catching up to him, and using a spell to shove him into the empty classroom. 

_stupefy,_ she cast nonverbally, and he crumpled to the ground as she magically locked the classroom door. 


	9. vii

october 1944 

"what is your name and age?"

"hector harley, 17." he had a dopey smile on his face, and his whole body swayed slightly. sicaria conjured a chair for him, and he immediately sat.

because her first interrogation went successfully, she had an easier time setting up all her enchantments and materials. she was slightly optimistic at her proficiency with the examinations, but made sure to keep her senses alert. 

"what are your parents and siblings names and ages?"

"mother: alicia harley 45. father: harrison harley 42. brothers killian harley and marco harley, twins. both 13."

"are you pureblood?"

"yes."

"do you know who gellert grindelwald is?"

"yes." he scowled at the name, but his eyes remained wide open and milky white.

"do you have any connection to gellert grindelwald?" these questions were annoyingly repetitive to sicaria, but she knew that this was the best way to cover all the bases.

"no."

"do any of your family members have any connection to gellert grindelwald?"

"yes."

"what connection does your family have with gellert grindelwald?"

"my mother works for the department of international magical cooperation and she was once tortured by grindelwald for information." he seemed to fight not to say this, but the verituserum would not allow him.

"what information was grindelwald trying to torture from your mother?"

he froze and his smile dropped as he started to jerk slightly. 

"disregard the last question."

"okay."

"do you know what information grindelwald attempted to torture out of your mother?" she rephrased. 

"no."

"is the ministry of magic aware of the situation with your mother and grindelwald?"

"yes." she turned to the quill and said, "draft a request to transfer the file on alicia harley from the british ministry. make note to ask dumbledore about her during their next meeting." she stood and paced around the room.

she turned back to hector and continued. "are you a pureblood supremacist?"

"no."

"do you see yourself joining a pureblood organization in the future?"

"no." he grimaced. 

"do you plan to aid in the defeat of grindelwald?"

"yes."

"how do you want to aid in the defeat of grindelwald?"

"i want to kill gellert grindelwald." he said, as though he had said it a million times before. _bold._

"do you know of any students with connections to grindelwald?"

"yes." his face contorted furiously. she eyed the time: 1 minute, 23 seconds left.

"name the students and families that you know of with connections to grindelwald and the ministry." she phrased it slightly differently than she had asked galleria, but she assumed hector might know a something more specific and more worthwhile. 

"the abernathy family. the rosier family. the karkaroff family. the carrow family." he stalled, her time was running out. _abernathy. that's a familiar name._

"what does the abernathy family have to do with grindelwald?" 

"...pureblood......party..........holiday.....indirect...." he was beginning to fight the words spilling from his mouth. once he had fully stopped himself from muttering incoherent noises, he straightened. "do you work for grindelwald?" he asked her. 

"no." she said. she then stunned him once again, and removed the memory and compulsion spells on him. she disillusioned and silenced herself before once again, slipping half way out the door before casting _reneverate._ he sat up quickly, but she was already gone. 

she found a secluded hallway where she removed the silencing charm on herself and then did the counterspell for the disillusionment charm. this was in poor taste, for she did not notice the head boy rounding the corner toward her. 

when he turned the corner, all he saw was an empty hallway, and then suddenly, sicaria was standing ten feet before him, not seeming to realize he was there. she was muttering to herself, looking slightly disordered. 

"why were you disillusioned?" he asked and she flinched so hard that she fumbled her wand. 

she stared at him like a deer caught in headlights as she searched quickly for an answer. "i was tired of getting stared at." he stared into her eyes, not acknowledging her response.. it was a plausible answer, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't being entirely truthful. she didn't wait for him to respond before starting to walk away. 

"where are you going?"

"dormitory." she said not turning back. suddenly, as though an invisible hand had grabbed her by the waist, she was turned around and slid right back in front of riddle. he was very close to her, their breaths intermingling. she made to take a step back, but the invisible hand held her planted. he smiled at her struggle, but then it quickly dropped. _personal space, yeah?_

"what did i say about looking at me when you speak to me?" his voice was deadly calm and quiet, and sicaria could not help the fact that she was _very_ attracted to him right now. she was looking directly into his eyes, and the rage and intimidation behind them was enough to make her squirm. _get a fucking grip, sicaria._ other people wore their hearts on their sleeves (and faces) but she had never met someone so good at concealing that pent up anger the way riddle did. a normal person would've never noticed anything was amiss with riddle, but she was not a normal person.

she needed to step away to regain her composure. being in proximity to him was, for some reason, exhilarating, and she needed to move before she did something out of her control. what was it about riddle that made it impossible for her to think on her feet? she cast _finite_ behind her back, but still found that she couldn't move. her thoughts were in a frenzy as she skimmed through the archives in her mind for spells and came up with quick, believable lies to feed him. 

"fine, i'm looking. is there something you needed or are you just incessant on bothering me?" _finite incantatem._ it did not work either. she racked her brain for another general counterspell. 

"you left class ten minutes ago, yet you're still in the hallway. why?" _relinqueris._ no luck. if the incantation was still affecting her after she casted the general counterspells on herself, then that meant that it had to be riddles wand that was still endlessly activating the spell. he would have to the one to drop it, unless she could make him drop it.

"not that it is any of your business, but i was exploring the grounds." she said, but her mind was thinking about how to get riddle to drop the spell. she glanced down quickly, and sure enough, his wand was slightly inclined toward her, with a dim red light protruding from the top. she didn't have the angle to cast _expelliarmus._

he stiffened slightly. _foolish, insolent girl._ "have you ever spoken a word of truth, or-" he started, but she used her hand to wandlessly pry his fingers apart, making him drop his wand. he looked furious as he reached his arm out to summon it, but she had already used her wand to slide it much farther down the hall. he turned back to her and narrowed his eyes. _how dare she?_

_she'll have to face consequences for that._

"it appears you've dropped your wand, riddle," she said, hyperventilating slightly as she felt the release of the spell. he noticed.

"unfortunately." he turned his back to her, stalking toward his wand, as she quickly made it around the corner and down the halls to her dorm. he lost this round, and there was no doubt in sicaria's mind that he would do anything to win the next one.

just like she did this morning, she deposited the leftover interrogation materials and placed the transcripts locked beneath her floorboard. she was almost excited to get back to her dormitory tonight, and she could not wait to get the transferred files. she grabbed her herbology textbook and set out toward the greenhouses, in high spirits. 

today had been a good day so far. she got not much, but significant information from two targets today. she did not let her mind wonder about what information the next two targets would he able to supply to her. the agent had learned early in her career not to het her hopes up.

sicaria arrived at the greenhouses early, and saw that professor silva had written names on the board. as she already knew, she was paired with abraxas malfoy. this played into her plot to get him alone for interrogation later today. silva had told her last class period, so she planned out specifically how she'd get to malfoy today. 

what she didn't expect, was how absolutely obnoxious malfoy would be.

"well, well, well," he said as he slid into the chair next to her after seeing their names listed next to each other. he had just walked in with the group of boys she assumed to be his friends. sicaria recognized them one as one of boys who had gaped at her when she entered with dumbledore, but she had already met the others in her classes. riddle was with them. "looks like i'm paired with the schools newest celebrity." 

"nice to meet you too." she muttered, disinterested. most of her conversations went this way, and it was a bit annoying to say the least. she didn't look at him when she responded. 

"testy, are we? what's got you in such a piss mood?" malfoy said. sicaria wondered what prompted this; she hadn't even said anything particularly rude. yet.

she turned to look him in the eye for the first time. "as if you're such a ray of sunshine."

he shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. he didn't respond. 

sicaria refocused her attention on professor silva explaining their task for today. 

"... one partner will do the flowers. separate the seeds from the petals. grind the petals into a paste. put the seeds and the petals into _two separate vials._ the other partner will focus on the stems. slice them directly in half and then scrape out the membrane. the membrane will go in one vial and the leftover skin will go in the other. when you're finished, bring me _all four vials._ " the professor droned on in a monotonous voice, but occasionally yelled to emphasize certain points. the polarity of her speech patterns left students leaning in to hear at some points, but also wincing when her volume increased unexpectedly. it bounced off the glass walls of the greenhouse. "only use a _silver_ knife. not gold, not porcelain." 

sicaria wondered why silva didn't just quit. it was quite obvious that she hated her students and hated teaching. perhaps dippet was holding something over her head, or maybe this was some kind of community service effort. whatever her internal sorrow was, sicaria couldn't bear looking at it, and hoped that the professor would learn not to take out her misery on her students. the professor could be quite funny when she wasn't busy being miserable. the student couldn't help feel a pang of superiority; compartmentalizing emotions was her strong suit. yes, it was an unhealthy practice, but it made her look and feel stronger than everyone else, so she didn't much care.

"now, _one_ partner come up to the front and get a plant." neither sicaria nor abraxas moved. he sunk deeper into his seat and crossed his arms, making it clear that he was not planning on getting the plant. _fucking toddler._ she waited for a moment longer, but when malfoy started tapping his quill against the table, she exhaled loud enough for him to hear, and stood up. he smirked at her as she retreated and ran a hand through his white-blonde hair. 

"and they say chivalry is dead." she muttered to herself as she walked to the front of the class. she noticed that she was the only woman who went to the front to grab the thirty-pound plant. it didn't matter though; she had always been a feminist, but she didn't particularly like having to carry around heavy things. the boys grabbing their plants eyed her warily. it was odd for a woman to be doing manual labor; they assumed it was american culture.

several offered to carry it for her. some even glancing around the room to see who her partner was. _very flattering, but very sexist._

"very kind of you, but i can handle it." she gave a large smile. the did not look convinced. silva stared out the window, seemingly oblivious to the commotion going on in front of her. 

she went to pick up the plant, and several arms shot out toward her, as though they wanted to catch her when she inevitably fell. they wanted to be the one to save the damsel in distress, and perhaps that would help them win the competition of who would _get_ the new girl first. yes it was misogynistic of them, but it was somewhat entertaining to her to see the boys trying to be gentlemanly. it was a stark contrast between the boys she'd known in new york.

when she plopped the plant on the table, several of the boys shot questioning looks at malfoy. he did not react, nor did he seem to care.

"if you're getting near the membrane, make sure to _wear gloves_. get out of here when you finish. begin." silva dropped down in her chair and tilted her head back to look at the sky, scowling as she did so. she did a few spins in her chair before sicaria turned her attention away from the eccentric woman. _weirdo._

sicaria looked over the procedure one more time before beginning. she cast the calming spell _nihil recusatur_ ( _no objection_. latin.) the professor taught them on the plant so that it would not attack as she removed the first leaves.

"you're not supposed to do that." he taunted in a sing-song voice after he heard her mutter the spell. he was looking for something to criticize her on, tired of the perfect girl everyone seemed to be fascinated with, including his best friends. it was nauseating, to him, seeing a female version of riddle come in and act like she was superior to everyone. he wanted to be the one to knock her down a few pegs. "be an idiot when it's only your grade at stake, yeah?"

"what are you talking about? i just started."

"yeah and you've already messed that up," _so fucking annoying._ "the book says that the spell causes-"

"professor silva specifically said _'that passage of information is outdated'_. it right on the board." she pointed her knife in the direction of the chalkboard. 

_The passage on the chemical affects of the calming spell on Flutterby Bush is outdated. Recent studies show that it does not cause contamination or otherwise diminish the usefulness._

right underneath that was another sentence.

 _Use the spell_ nihil recusatur _(corkscrew wand motion) to cease the quivering of the plant, and stop it's scent from attracting you._

she piled on, but held herself back slightly. though malfoy didn't seem reckless and raging, she did not want a repeat of the situation from a few nights ago. getting attacked was not something she wanted to be a recurring experience. though malfoy seemed like the type for non-corporeal revenge, damage to the male ego can make them act rather irrationally, in sicaria's experience.

"how about you worry about your own part? just get the sap from the leaves and stems and i'll handle about the flowers." she was outwardly scowling at him now, and it seemed that venus and adonis rosier found it quite entertaining, as did riddle and the rest of malfoys' friend group. venus seemed less entertained though when she realized that the attention of their peers was once again on her _friend._

"what if i wanted to do the flowers?" he said. she did not entertain him with a response. after waiting a few more moments, he sighed again and picked up his knife, twirling it in his hand. she made it clear she was done giving him reactions, and now he was bored.

"fine then." he conceded and they both turned to do their respective parts. 

still, she didn't trust that he wouldn't mess up his part, so she continued to glance over at his progress. she was glad she did, he was about to stir the venomous membrane without his gloves. 

"if you touch that, your fingers will fall off." she warned. sure, she was irritated with him, but she wasn't a sadist. _more of a masochist._

he scoffed. "what happened to 'worry about your own part'? do the same rules not apply to you, _princess_?" he grinned when she scowled at the nickname. rosier shook his head amused, and venus snickered. his other friends, who she recognized as adrien lestrange and thomas nott, were laughing at malfoys' predicament, while riddle pretended not to be paying attention (he was looking down at his work, and no one could see the amused look playing on his features).

"for gods sake, can't you just take the advice?" she turned to look at him exasperated, and he only smiled wider. "if you prefer to disfigure yourself then be my fucking guest." she went back to her work as he grumbled under his breath, but not before putting on the gloves. she smirked in triumph at silencing him.

they did the rest of the work in silence, and then sealed their vials and cleaned their area. 

"riddle was right," he said after a moment, and she raised an eyebrow. "you are a bitch." 

she snorted. _i don't care. not even slightly._ "not the first time i've been called that. you and riddle both can go fuck yourselves, how about that?" she raised her voice slightly and sent riddle a pointed look, which he only smirked faintly at. she grabbed the four vials with their names on them and stormed off. she set them on professor silva's desk, bid the professor a halfhearted goodbye ("until next class, professor." "inevitably and unfortunate. good day, ms. edwards." she responded), and exited the greenhouse without a look back. 


	10. viii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that even though sicaria's a spy, she's still just a kid, and will slip up and do shit that kids do

october 1944  
  


after the events of the herbology class, sicaria disillusioned herself in the hallway that most students took from the greenhouses back to the castle. based on the time of day, sicaria made the assumption that malfoy would take the route back in the direction of the slytherin common room. there was an abandoned classroom there that she could use.

she stood, invisible, leaning against the wall, waiting for abraxas to come down the hall so she could follow him. they were partners, so he left soon after she did. she ran her fingers through her coiled hair as she waited, getting frustrated when her fingers got caught. she did nothing to alleviate the stinging when she ripped several strands out. _you're losing it._

soon enough, he rounded the corner of the hall, his strides long and confident even though no one was around to see. she tore her fingers away from her head as she moved from the wall and followed behind him in the corridor that he thought was empty. as she had guessed, he was walking in the direction of the common room. since classes were still going on right now (few teachers let their students leave early), the halls were near-empty, making it easy for her not to be caught.

this didn't matter though, because she tripped slightly on a quill someone had left in the hall, and landed against the wall with a small _thump._ at this noise, abraxas quickly turned around, eyes grazing over the hall behind him. he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, which was suspicious. it was at this moment that she realized that she had forgotten to cast the silencing charm on herself.

malfoy was still staring around the corridor, looking for the source of the noises he had just heard. the wind whistled around them, giving the entire hall a suspenseful aura. surely he wasn't going crazy, he was far to young to be losing his wits. he pulled out his wand and sicaria readied hers.

_fuck._

" _hormenum rev_ -" he started, but she had stunned him before he could finish. he fell to the ground, and she cast a disillusionment charm over his body before levitating him and walking in the direction of the abandoned classroom she had chosen when she planned out her interrogations for the day. his long(ish) blonde hair flowed below him, though no one could see it, and his face looked rather calm, unlike most after they were stunned.

she opened the door and flicked her wand to swiftly move his unconscious body into the room and land not softly, but not violently on the ground. she then threw off the disillusionment charms on both of them, before administering the potion, conjuring the hourglass, and casting the memory and compulsion charms on abraxas. she reneverated him, and did not give him a bench.

"you've lost your bloody mind." he slurred when his chalky white eyes met hers. the effect of the memory charm was creepy for sicaria to look at. "i swear to merlin, i'll-"

"stop threatening me." the compulsion charm caused him to shudder slightly before returning his scowl at her and sway slightly on the ground. "you wont remember any of this anyway."

"what-"

"what is your name and age?" she cut him off. he was much more talkative than the rest. she assumed that maybe he would be good at fighting the imperius curse. it was always interesting to see how peoples personalities clashed with the compulsive magic at hand.

"abraxas malfoy. 17." his tone suddenly became crisp. his features still set in a scowl, but the expression looked gracefully angry on his face. if he wasn't such an asshole, she would think he was attractive. at the word attractive, her mind started to slip elsewhere, but she shook her head. _focus, compartmentalize, think._ it was hard not to give in when her thoughts wanted to take her somewhere.

"what are your parents and siblings names and ages?" the scratch of the magical quill on the paper made for a good white noise to distract her.

"father: canopus malfoy, 48. mother: saiph malfoy, 41." _no siblings? that explains the only-child syndrome._

"are you a pureblood?"

"yes."

"do you know who gellert grindelwald is?"

"yes."

"do you have any connection to gellert grindelwald?"

"yes."

"are you loyal to grindelwald?"

"no."

"what is your connection to gellert grindelwald?"

"i have been to one of his rallies, unwillingly." sicaria hoped that one day, scientists would perform a study on how a persons personality affected their responses when under the influence of veritaserum. some gave one word answers, some packed in as much information as possible, and some made their answers as vague as possible.

"who brought you to a grindelwald rally and why?"

"my aunt, meissa malfoy-upsillon. she is a grindelwald enthusiast and she does not have a child of her own to force into his service, so she took me one day, but i could not give my loyalty to grindelwald. my parents were furious when we returned, but i was too young to fight back." _look for any files on a messia malfoy-upsillon._

"do know if any of your family members have connections to grindelwald?"

"my father does enough to ensure we are not targets. we do not actively participate in his cause, nor fight against it." she wanted to snort, but if she wasn't forced into macusa servitude, she'd likely be doing the same. she was sympathetic to muggles and muggleborns, but she had already given the war too much of her life to devote any more to it.

"are you a pureblood supremacist?"

malfoy groaned and brought his hands to his head, gripping his hair.

"disregard that." he relaxed.

"okay."

"do you know if you're a pureblood supremacist?" she tried.

"no." _how do you not know- nevermind._

"why don't you know if you're a pureblood supremacist?"

"because i'm a pureblood but i do not hate muggles or mudbloods." sicaria snorted at his statement. the oxymoron of him using a slur yet saying he doesn't discriminate against the group was truly entertaining.

"are you in a pureblood supremacist organization?"

he seemed to pause and think for a moment, but did not groan. "no."

"why did it take you so long to answer the previous question?" she eyed the time, thirty-five seconds left.

"the organization i am loyal to is about power. subjugation of mudbloods is just a means to an end." _huh?_

"what organization are you loyal to?" this wasn't part of the grindelwald mission, but she found herself being curious.

"the knights of walpurgis."

sicaria's brow furrowed. she had never heard of them.

"who are the knights of walpurgis?"

he groaned as the time ran out.

"why can't you tell me about the knights of walpurgis?" he closed his lips but was still speaking behind them. sicaria couldn't make out the words. she turned to her transcript, but all it said was _indistinct noises_. she groaned. "shit."

"upset you can't snoop in my business?" his voice had returned to his usual biting tone. "isn't this illegal? i mean i knew you weren't what you seemed, but kidnapping?"

"shut up, malfoy." she pointed her wand at him. why was he so much more lucid than the rest of the interviewee's?

"don't you dare point that thing at me you foul woman-" she stunned him.

before undoing the enchantments and preparing to leave, sicaria sat for a moment against the wall. a wave of tiredness had washed over her as she tried to slow her breathing. sicaria still had one interrogation, two classes, lunch, dinner, and a meeting with dumbledore to sit through before getting to call it a day. to add on to that, she had several assignments left to do. she snorted at the thought. _i'm a grown fucking woman stressing over high school assignments._

she laughed at herself, and then remembered that tomorrow was the slughorn halloween dinner party. it probably would have been something she would have enjoyed, if she didn't have to spend the whole time canvassing and finding people who seem suspicious. how _fun._

she tugged at the roots of her hair as she mulled over her options. eventually, she decided that caroline macmillan would still be alive next week, and she could just interrogate her then.

glancing down at her watch, she quickly stumbled to her feet. "oh shit!" she said, as she quickly undid all the enchantments on malfoys' body. the next class period would be ending in five minutes, and she needed to get him awake and she needed to be gone before traffic in the hallway picked up.

once again, she disillusioned herself as she slid quickly out of the room as malfoy slowly stirred.

the rest of the day went by in a blur. all her classes and conversations bled together as one homogenous moment in time where she was somehow bored and overstimulated at the same time. everyone's faces looked the same, everyone's voices sounded the same, and every feeling felt the same: like nothing. the only thing that kept her going was the last few vials of the energy potion she had brewed in slughorns class last week.

sicaria now sat on the floor of her dorm, looking through her potions textbook about the effects of too much energy potion. it said nothing about overdose, so she closed the book and downed the last three vials quickly. almost instantly, her mind came back from that mushy state it was in, and she felt like she could think clearer than she ever had before. her limbs were light as she lifted them, and her fingertips burned with magic as she reached for her wand.

she hated it.

the fun thing about cocaine, in sicaria's opinion, was that it made her feel crazy. all that insanity masked beneath her organization and compartmentalization could come to the surface when she was high. she could do things, without constantly having to dwell on the consequences. she could talk without having to plan out her words before she said them. every single day, she would have to plan out her every move to make sure she wasn't putting herself or others at risk. when high, she didn't have to give a damn about anything. she could be messy, and disarrayed, and downright stupid without having to think about repercussions. all her thoughts could scatter, and she could have those fleeting moments of irresponsibility before having to reorganize herself.

she would accidentally reveal some of her lies. part of the fun was in the struggle to fight the chemicals altering her thought process. part of the fun was the overwhelming guilt after she used.

in other words, she could be free. she could be the kid she never got to be.

but this potion had the polar opposite effect. and she hated it.

her mind felt like an office building as her thoughts were being carried from secretary to secretary and then getting put away in a filing cabinet. some of the little office people in her head took calls from other parts of her body, some wrote memos, and others yelled at the secretaries, telling them to move faster. it made her brain buzz. mind still racing, she grabbed her list of things to report to dumbledore and walked briskly out of her dorm, through the common room, and out of the dungeons. she set her mind to _"meeting with dumbledore"_ mode, and her entire brain was only filled with those thoughts. her mind was so hyperfocused on her task that she didn't even notice the remaining five slytherin boys still in the common room, all of whom looked at her retreating form. some looked with contempt, others with fascination, and others with amusement.

"she's wandering the corridors past curfew, riddle," adrien lestrange said. "not in the mood to narc tonight?"

"shut up, lestrange." riddle sneered at the boy. "i'm busy, one of the other prefects will get her."

"didn't even seemed like she realized we were here." adonis rosier chimed in. riddle groaned as he laid back on the floor. leave it to his friends to get distracted by a girl when they had more important things to do. his interest in her had peaked though, and he found himself listening to the gossip his knights were talking about.

the four boys were talking; nott and rosier sitting on the couches, lestrange at the table right next to the couch, and malfoy pacing in front of the fireplace. riddle was laid back on the rug in front of the fireplace, only a few feet away from abraxas' pacing.

"...stumbling about like a moron." abraxas finished, and thomas nott laughed at him.

"still upset about her being better at herbology than you?" rosier laughed. "why did you start bitching at her as soon as you walked in? she's actually rather nice despite what you two seem to think." he said looking between riddle and malfoy.

"that's because you're as observant as a rock, rosier." riddle said. the gears started turning in his head. perhaps if he couldn't force any answers out of her, he could get his knights to do a bit of espionage and find out a bit about her. maybe that was too risky. _who cares what she's hiding anyway?_ _"_ she's a liar, and she's hiding something."

"everyone seems to bloody love her for no reason," malfoy grimaced as he spoke. "even the teachers. she's the only one silva doesn't actively hate. merrythought is always giving her tips. she got invited to slughorns' halloween dinner and she hasn't even been here a bloody month yet."

"jealous, _abraxas_?" lestrange smiled maliciously.

abraxas ignored him. "not to mention her constant meetings with dumbledore."

riddle's head snapped up at the mention of the professor. "what meetings with dumbledore?" he says up on his elbows.

"no idea what they are about. she stays back to speak with him after class sometimes, and i've seen her leaving his office on weekends. maybe he's the one who's teaching her to be better than everyone else." lestrange said. "better than everyone except you _tommy-boy_."

"shut _up,_ lestrange. unless you want your tongue hexed off." riddle threatened. it quieted lestrange's mocking, but didn't diminish his taunting smile. he moved on. "why would dumbledore be teaching her?"

no one spoke for a moment.

"the hufflepuff prefect said something about her parents being friends with dumbledore before they died." rosier said, repeating gossip that had circulated the school.

"how did they die?" riddle asked, and everyone shrugged. "still doesn't make sense why he'd be teaching her specifically."

"i could ask davidson," rosier said. "she'd tell me anything."

riddle nodded at him. "in the meantime, i want the rest of you to trail her. find out what she does outside of class, who she talks to, what she has to do with dumbledore. anything. i expect some sort of progress by next week." they nodded at him.

"why not just go through her room since she's gone now? i'll bet she's at a meeting with dumbledore, and that man talks for hours."

"that's the first intelligent thing you've said in a while, lestrange." riddle deadpanned the back-handed compliment. "let's go. rosier, nott, stay and keep watch. malfoy and lestrange, come with me."

it was near three in the morning, and all the other slytherins were in their dorms. the trio crept quickly but quietly down the hall of the girls dorm rooms until they came to the final door of the corridor.

the three stopped and looked for a moment. the door was closed, but everything looked normal on the outside, no indication that anything abnormal was occurring inside it. malfoy reached his hand for the doorknob, but before he could even touch it, it burned with the fervor of fiendfyre and he retreated his hand quickly. the knob glowed red and hissed slightly.

" _shit!"_ he exclaimed, looking at the blisters forming on his front two fingers.

"quiet down," riddle hissed. "do you want to wake the whole bloody school?"

"not my fault that i felt like my hand was getting cut off!"

"does it hurt terribly, malfoy?" lestrange mocked. the blonde boy sneered and lestrange shoved him out of the way.

"i'll stab you in your sleep, _adrien_."

"yeah? with what hand?" he fought the smile playing at his lips. "your threats don't scare me, _abraxas_."

"and mine do?" riddle interjected , speaking to the boy but not turning to look at the pair. his eyes stayed on the door, scanning to look for any faults.

"clearly," lestrange rolled his eyes. "or i'd be talking about how you probably have narcissistic personality disorder."

"you wound me, lestrange," riddle jested. it was rare moment when riddle joked with the boys who called him their friend, so lestrange took it for all it was worth.

"yeah and you've wounded me infinitely more times," he said, alluding to the many occasions where tom had lashed out and cursed them. 

lestrange reached out his hand, but instead of to the knob, he planned on just pushing the door. the issue, though, was that before his hand could get within a foot of the door, it froze as though it hit a wall, and the door glowed a dim purple light.

he retracted his hand quickly, hoping not to meet the same fate as malfoys' hand. once he did this, the purple glow faded and it once again looked like a completely normal door. tom pulled out his wand. _finite incantatem._ the purple light glowed again, this time much brighter, but the door still did not move.

" _alohomora_ ," malfoy casted with his left hand, but the door did not budge. the knob glowed red.

" _reserare ostium_ ," riddle said, but the moment he did, it seemed as though a magical forcefield pushed them back. they were now much farther away than they were originally standing.

"what the hell is she keeping in there?" lestrange said, incredulously. "the woman must be paranoid out of her mind."

the three stared for a few more moments, as riddle stood there, casting several variations of different charms, some of them working, but most of them not. she had layers and layers of wards guarding her room, and riddle had only managed to chip away at a few of them before he gave up and walked away. the other two followed.

"find anything?" nott said upon hearing their footsteps as they reenter the room. he and rosier left their positions by the door to the common room and went back to the table by the fireplace they were sitting at before.

"the bitch has half a million enchantments on her room. we couldn't even get in," malfoy grumbled, showing the blisters on his hand. rosier cast a pain management charm on his hand, but malfoy only groaned when the attempted healing made the pain worse. "are you trying to kill me, rosier?"

"sorry," he said sheepishly. "it's a pain management charm, i don't know why it didn't work."

"magical injury," riddle said.

"but the spell is supposed to work on magical injuries." rosier frowned.

riddle frowned in thought. "she talked about knowing spell theory. maybe its a variation of a spell but this version makes the trespasser hold on the pain longer." he was both annoyed and impressed by her ingenuity.

"how am i supposed to explain this to the hospital wing if i don't even know what the injury is?" abraxas said.

"you'll figure something out, _princess_ ," adrien said, mocking the words he had heard malfoy saying to sicaria earlier that same day.

"so what's she hiding that's so valuable? or so secret?" rosier asked, changing the subject.

"well that is the question, isn't it?" nott said. he played with the chess pieces sitting on the table. his friends still refused to play against him, as he was undefeated against them all. he was something of a prodigy.

the five boy's sat there puzzled, trying to think of any more information about her. they bounced facts and ideas off each other, not realizing as time slowly started to slip away from them. about ten minutes later, the creak of the door caused all five heads to turn toward sicaria reentering. unlike earlier when she walked through, she immediately noticed the five boys sitting in the middle of the room. she was tugging at her tie to undo it, but stopped when the eyes turned to her. she slowed her steps to a halt.

"uh, evening gentlemen," she said meekly, wondering why in god's name anyone was up at this hour, willingly. nott and rosier gave her kind smiles, while abraxas' expression soured and riddle's expression did not change. "and malfoy."

"evening, edwards. seems we're all a bunch of insomniacs yeah?" lestrange said with the air of a joke, but riddle recognized it as a well masked cover story. though lestrange could be stupid, he was excellent at thinking on his feet.

"much better liar you are now from when i first met you," she said to him. his words were much more confident, but his eyes gave the lie away. still, she smiled at him. "keep up the good work."

"why thank you," he bowed slightly. _first rule of lying, even if you get caught, never admit it. keep lying; plant the seed of doubt._ "perhaps one day i'll be as good of a liar as you are."

she shrugged. "i doubt it, but you can try." lestrange was easy to banter with.

"being out of your common room after curfew is against the rules, edwards. 10 points from slytherin." riddle interrupted, souring the mood, but sicaria did not seem to care.

she laughed. "take ten more then ask me if i care." she resumed walking toward them. she had to in order to pass them to get to the hallway where her dorm was.

lestrange chuckled as the others watched her with interest. "out for a midnight stroll?" he asked smoothly.

"if you must know, i had a task to do for a professor." _the closer a lie is to the truth, the more believable it is._

"which professor?" rosier asked politely.

"merrythought," she lied without missing a beat.

" _liar,"_ malfoy said. they were all thinking it. everyone in the room knew it was likely dumbledore she was meeting.

sicaria shrugged. "prove it." upon closer look at him, she noticed something wrong with his hand. he realized that maybe he shouldn't have drawn her attention to him.

she narrowed her eyes at his hand, and everyone seemed to quickly realize what she was looking at. she began piecing together the puzzle. malfoy would have shifted his hand out of sight, but it hurt too badly to move.

"hold out your hand." she commanded at him. oddly, it reminded the group of how riddle sounded when making demands, like he was daring them to disobey. this notion almost made abraxas instinctually do what she asked, but his rational thinking kicked in first. when he didn't move, sicaria rolled her eyes. she used wandless magic to make him extend his arm as he tried to claw at the invisible grasp around his wrist, crying out in pain at the abrupt movement of his blistering hand. nott pointed his wand at her, probably to disarm her, but she flicked his wand away with barely a glance up. rosier did the same, and met the same fate. she looked up at the remaining three. abraxas was in too much pain to even try to wield his wand. lestrange held his hands up in mock surrender, and riddle only crossed his arms over his chest.

" _ad augendam poenam,_ " she casted, and the blisters faded away, as did the pain. the way the latin words rolled off her tongue in her new york accent was beautiful to hear. she dropped the nonverbal spell holding his hand in place and he snatched his hand back, eyes glaring suspiciously at her, but ultimately the relief in his expression showed her all she needed to know. riddle looked fascinated. it was a variation of the same spell he had used on her only a few days ago, and he gaped at her. how could she have possibly learned, mastered, and adjusted it so quickly? "i wouldn't advise going near my room again. the counterspell only works if i cast it."

nobody moved or spoke.

"tell me, riddle," she started. "how many points is penalty for attempted breaking and entering?"

"depends on the extent of damage done to the property." he answered nonchalantly. unlike his friends, he was not intimidated by her deductive reasoning, nor vague threats.

"if you touch it again, it'll feel a million times worse. might i ask what it is you were looking for in my room?" she asked, barely managing to conceal her anger.

"prove it," abraxas sneered. "in your wise words. you can't prove we were anywhere near there."

she smiled at him, hoping one of them would say that. "yes i can. i invented the spell asshole, and i'm the only person on earth who knows the counterspell. maybe next time i won't be so inclined to lift it."

once again, nobody moved or spoke. some of them were in awe of her talent, while riddle was contemplating the inadvertent challenge in her statement. if she was the only one who knew the way around her wards, he would make it his mission to get through them, layer by layer, no matter how long it took. he wouldn't stop until there was nothing that she was magically better than him at. the wheels were already turning in his head.

no one had made him work this hard in a long time. she was the first student to make him have something of a challenge to work against. it was as annoying as it was exhilarating.

"no one has anything to say?" she laughed derisively at them. "bunch of fucking pansies. goodnight."

"i like her," lestrange said as she finally turned the corner. he hoped she could hear him. "she made you lot look like a bunch of fools."

"and yet you're the biggest idiot here." rosier said.

"i have a plan," riddle said, and all four pairs of eyes turned to him. before he spoke though, he cast _hormenum revelio_ to make sure she wasn't still lurking in the room anywhere. she wasn't. he cast _muffliato_ over the five of them. "rosier?"

he looked up.

"invite venus to have dinner with us," riddle said, and they looked confused.

"for just tomorrow?"

"no, until further notice," the heir of slytherin said. at the confused looks he continued. "she'll bring edwards with her, and i'll be able to slip away and try different counterspells."

"didnt she says she was the only one who knew-" not started, but was cut off

riddle sneered. "are you doubting my abilities, nott?" nott shook his head immediately. "good." he said as he leaned back on the floor once again, putting his hands behind is head. his shirt rode up slightly, exposing the bottom few inches of his toned stomach.

"i'll invent another counterspell myself if i have to."


	11. ix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slughorns parties are a huge plot device in fanfics and yes, i will be hopping on that bandwagon
> 
> also, this is where the chapters start to get a bit longer

halloween, october 1944

sicaria grimaced at the version of herself she saw in the mirror. her dark, curly hair was pulled behind her ears and fell gracefully down her back. it perfectly framed the silver drooping earrings that adorned her ears. her neckline of her dress was v shaped, but modest, showing off her elegant collar bones. the green dress tightened at her waist and then flowed down to the ground where it dragged slightly along the floor. there was a slit in the dress, and she had her wand strapped to her thigh, so it was accessible if she needed it. paranoid, i know. she hoped she wouldn't be over or under dressed for the event; that was embarrassment that she didn't think she'd be able to handle. besides, her plan for tonight was to stay under the radar.

the picture sicaria saw in the mirror was stunning. she should have taken pride in her beauty, but couldn't bring herself to admire it. her mind floated with the need to have validation of her looks. she imagined her mother, telling her she finally looked like the daughter she wanted. she imagined the attendant at the dress shop, telling her how this dress looked more flattering on her than anyone else who had tried it on. she imagined the many hogwarts boys who had flirted with her, coming up with phony complements attempting to "win" her. she imagined her friends eyeing her up and down silently, not complementing her verbally, but still getting the message across. she imagined the people at the party-

wait, what?

no, i dont care what any of them think of me in this dress.

sighing at her own childishness, she stepped into her shoes and headed out the door. as she crossed the magical barrier, she thought about the few extra wards she had thought to add after last nights encounter. this brought it to a grand total of 12 charms securing her room from anyone aside from her and dumbledore in the event she was incapacitated. 

she walked down the dorm hallway quickly, so as not to attract much attention. it was still early in the night, so she assumed there would be many students still awake lounging in the common room. she stepped out of the hallway and into the room and her assumption was proven correct. many heads turned toward her, but she made it a point to ignore them all as she continued her stride toward the door. act like you don't care. no, act like you don't notice-

"you look magnificent, edwards," she sighed for a second and then plastered a phony smile on her face as she turned around to meet the voice of adrien lestrange. ah, the Pretend Nothing Happened phenomenon. unsurprisingly, he and the rest of his friend group were all cleaned up nicely, all in variations of black, dark green, and dark grey suits. riddle's suit was entirely black, the only color being the green tie that glinted in the firelight. she assumed they were going to be the last slytherins to arrive at slughorns party, seeing as no one else in the common room was dressed so formally. rosier and nott paused and gave slight nods of acknowledgement. malfoy glanced toward her, then quickly averted his gaze back to rosier and nott, who had resumed their conversation. riddle stared at her, quite blankly, but did not meet her eyes for more than a second, almost exactly how she had earlier wished he would. lestrange stood in the middle, calling out to sicaria, bringing the entire room's attention to her. 

why is it that i suddenly need his approval?

perhaps it was because he was the only one who addressed her with pure indifference. sure, his eyes showed his anger and curiosity toward her, but he made sure to hide it well when addressing her. it was infuriating to sicaria; she wanted to see him react at her direction. the only time she got a reaction from him was when he knew he was in control of a situation. she had slipped up occasionally, when he touched her and she flinched. that was the only time she knew that his true emotions slipped through the cracks. her whole life was spent making sure she kept control of herself, and perhaps letting someone else affect her was invigorating, but surrendering to his control willingly was not on sicaria's bucket list. 

she imagined a reality in which he touched her to see how far she would let him go. his hands slowly moving around her body, leaving goosebumps on her flesh and shivers down her spine. she quashed this odd fantasy almost the moment it came to her. he already knew too much of her, she couldn't allow herself to give him more ammunition. bad things happen when i don't control myself. 

she had a job to do.

"how kind of you, lestrange," she said, clasping her hands behind her back in self-consciousness. there were only about thirty people in the room, but due to lestrange's outspoken nature, everyone's attention was turned toward her. "well, i best be off."

she turned quickly back to the door, but barely made it four more steps before another voice called out. "hold on one moment," riddle said as she once again turned to face them, this time wearing an expression of exasperation. "we'll accompany you." he flashed his charming, head-boy smile at her, but his eyes were begging her to challenge him. she would not. it was reminiscent of the day after she had first arrived, when he brought her to slughorns office. his commanding voice stirred something in her. 

his eyes were boring into hers, as they often did. in class, she would find herself absentmindedly glancing over toward him, and occasionally he would meet her eyes, staring so deeply that she double checked to make sure she was still performing occlumency. his eyes seemed to say what he constantly conveyed to her, i see right through you. in some ways, it made her paranoid, but she remembered the outrageous amount of detective work required for anyone to discover her secret. the only problem was that she didn't know how determined he was to solve her. 

it was less of a request and more of a command. she conceded when she did not move, and the group took that as her okay to join her. his eyes flickered with triumph when she did not fight this demand. obedient girl. she felt as though something was off, but couldn't bring herself to fight it, especially not in front of all these people. she realized that she surrendered to him more often than she did to anyone else. that would have to change, she thought. she could not let him maintain the upper hand. no one challenged riddle, but she sometimes did. it was a battle between her survival instinct and her pride.

malfoy groaned slightly but nott elbowed him in the ribs. fosier gave him a look that resembled a mother's to her insolent child; a look that said behave. the five boys made their way over to sicaria's direction, all eyes following them as they did so. 

rosier was the first to reach her and he opened the door and took her hand to guide her down the small step. he kissed her knuckles, and complemented her appearance. how gentlemanly. to be quite frank, it almost made her uncomfortable to be in the presence of people with these kind of aristocratic manners, but she chose to relish in the attention. men in new york were no where near as chivalrous. she smiled genuinely at him.

it was dim in the hallway, the only light coming from the rapidly setting sun and the candles that lined the hall. the five followed her out, and each one who passed repeated the gesture, except abraxas. he patted her shoulder, and then said a backhanded complement about her "cleaning up nicely for such a shrew." she did not grant him a response.

"don't be such a cunt, malfoy," lestrange said. a what?

"what did you just call me?" 

riddle was the second to last out the door, and as he took her hand, he kissed it, but did not take his eyes away from hers as she did so. she held her breath, but her face remained impassive. it did not fool him though, he felt her body become rigid at his touch, and he smirked lightly at her before dropping her hand. sicaria wondered if he read her eyes as often as she read his. is he fucking with me or is he flirting? riddle did not seem the type to be interested in affections, but she could not deny her attraction to him. perhaps it was his intimidating aura, or maybe it was his intellect and magical ability. or maybe the way that he made her feel out of control. he's an attractive guy, sicaria. you don't have to rationalize being attracted to an objectively attractive man. 

lestrange, last out the door, took her arm and guided her out the dungeons. riddle stood slightly behind the pair, and relished in the fact that she did not react to lestranges touch the way she responded to his. theirs was much less tense, and much more innocent. the notion made him smirk.

she vaguely listened to lestranges small talk about the school, and instead payed attention to the boys around her. every time she had seen them, whether it was in class or huddled around a common room table, they always seemed to be deathly serious. hearing them now laughing, and talking about girls and alcohol and schoolteachers reminded her that they were still young boys, with plenty of life ahead of them. of course, she was only one year older physically, but she felt like she had been through enough life-threatening events to make her feel out of place. she didn't know how to be a kid when sober, which is why she had a small pouch of angel dust tucked unnoticeably into her bra. once she finished her work for tonight, she'd allow herself an emotional release. she could only hope that everyone would be too drunk my that time to notice her. 

"edwards, you play quidditch?" rosier asked from behind her. she and lestranges steps slowed so that they were level with him. 

"when i was younger, but i haven't for several years." yeah cause your parents decided that anything children liked was obsolete. "why do you ask? do you play?"

he smiled at her. his charm differed from riddles; rosier felt much more like a teenage boy than riddle did. his intentions were clear with his flirtatious nature and charm, whereas riddle was trying to portray the image of perfection. it was refreshing, to say the least; he was playful in his conversations with her, and it was easier to dodge his pursuits than the others since he seemed to be much more respectful of her boundaries. "yeah, lestrange, malfoy, and i are all on the slytherin team. malfoy is captain this year."

"really?" she said, holding polite interest. they passed by the courtyard which glimmered in the setting sun. "what position? i was always keeper."

"i play keeper," lestrange grinned at their similarity. "rosier and malfoy are both chasers. shit ones honestly. you should come to a game someday. we're rather good this year, and it'll boost your house pride to see us demolish the other houses." he requested. she tried to think of a strategic advantage to going to a quidditch match, but she moved the thought to the back of her head. she was allowed to have a break, and do some things for leisure. she was allowed to do things here that were not directly related to macusa, especially since this was a 24/7 assignment.

yes, they had attempted to invade her privacy just last night (actually early this morning), but she found herself actually enjoying their company, regardless of whether or not she trusted any of them. in her line of work, holding grudges would get her nowhere. all the people she chose to speak to on a regular basis were those on her same intellectual plane, and these five boys were included in the group of people she decided were as smart as her. most times when she spoke with them, it was one-on-one as partners in class where they would joke with each other while still working efficiently. this was one of the few times that she was with them as a group, but honestly she didn't mind it. she loved having female friends, but something about male friendships was slightly different. she didn't have to be emotionally vulnerable in male friendships for it to work out, and they required much less dedication than female friendships. she had a higher quantity of male friendships, but her female friendships were of a higher quality. venus was not one of her high quality friends, but she kept her around nonetheless.

"i'd love to." she responded.

"if you don't mind me asking, why did you stop playing quidditch?" it was an innocent enough question.

she instinctually started to come up with a lie, something about just growing out of it. she decided against the lie though, because there was no reason to. the closer a lie is to the truth, the more believable it is. she thought maybe she'd give a bit of her genuine backstory to them. "my parents didn't like me doing things that they thought distracted me from learning magic. said it wasn't mature enough for me." she bit out, trying to keep herself impassive, but the resentment she had from her parents seeped through. the genuine emotion in her voice was not like the controlled one she normally used, and the rare moment of authenticity did not go unnoticed by her companions.

no one spoke, but there were some grunts of understanding. her statement had resonated with each of the boys. for four of the boys, their whole lives, their parents had prepped them to become decent husbands and heirs to their pureblood fortunes. they resented their parents, but didn't hold the same disdain as sicaria. they understood her anger at being denied a childhood, something that all six of them had in common. riddle, on the other hand, related entirely to her hatred of her parents. he blamed their abandonment of him for his cynicism lack of empathy for the rest of the world, which denied him a childhood. his hatred of his father drove him to homicidal lengths. his mother was taken from him because she was weak, so why should his father get the easy way out? no, he would pay for his abandonment of his child in hell, where hopefully, his mother was rotting also. 

they also knew of her parents "recent" deaths (recent for them, not for her). the whole school knew, it seemed. she wondered when venus had let that bit of gossip slip. death was a topic most tried to avoid when speaking to her. the awkwardness was palpable, and she did not remember the walk to slughorns classroom being so distant.

"nice job killing the mood, edwards," malfoy said. he was trying to diffuse the tension by being rude to her, and in an odd way, she was grateful. "next you should talk about crying babies and sad puppies."

"fuck off, malfoy." lestrange hissed. she wondered, if i had a brother, would he be more like abraxas or adrien?

she shrugged. "hey, he asked. should i continue on my monologue about how sad and miserable my life has been? maybe how my cat died as a child? or when i broke my arm when i was seven?"

everyone's steps seemed to slow for a moment. they laughed at her commonly lightly, but the question was lingering in the air over their heads. she rolled her eyes. 

"you cowards. go on and ask, i'm not going to burst into tears." she urged. their curiosity was in the air, but most were too polite to ask. 

it was silent for a moment until someone finally spoke. 

"how did your parents die?" nott said, and immediately lestrange whirled around and gave him an angry look, while rosier said, "what the hell, nott?"

she chuckled slightly and all of them except riddle looked at her like she had grown three heads. "it's alright, i know you all want to know." she paused for a moment. the closer a lie is to the truth, the more believable it is. "they got on the wrong side of some very powerful wizards, and they payed the price for it. only reason i'm not dead is that none of them knew i existed." her tone was calm, almost disinterested. 

they all thought for a moment. they were nearing slughorn's classroom. finally. 

"forgive me if this is crass, but was it in relation to gellert grindelwald?" yes. riddle asked very politely, but she could see the lack of empathy in his eyes. she wondered if his parents were dead too; perhaps that was why he was so desensitized to the idea of it. lestrange once again looked irritated, but he didn't chastise riddle the way he had done to nott. she made note of this friendship dynamic.

a small pang of legilimency tried to slip into her mind, but she quickly shut him out. he would never see the inside of her head again. 

she nodded at his question, and once again a heavy silence fell on the group, the only sound being the distant chatter of the party and the click of sicaria's shoes on the stone ground. he seemed to be satisfied with her answer; this was the most truthful she had been with anyone in quite some time. sicaria wondered what it was about this group of boys she deeply mistrusted that made her trust them so deeply. she cleared her throat. "well now that we've finished that riveting conversation, any suggestions on which english liquor i should try? i've only ever had american, muggle brands."

instantly, the conversation resumed between four of the boys as they hurried to prescribe different alcohols to her. perhaps none of them had noticed her slip of tongue by admitting she had sampled muggle alcohols. it was less of an accident, and more of a test, to see what kind of reaction they'd give to her admitting to spending time in the muggle world. none of them seemed to care, or if they did, they didn't react.

"-drink that disgusting shit? tastes like piss-"

"that's why i suggested it." 

she had released lestranges arm because he kept turning back to speak to his friends (not that he seemed to notice), and she was walking slightly ahead of the group, only partially listening to their banter. at least my allies aren't a bunch of blood supremacists. she still had to come to terms with the fact that she would have to eventually interrogate them; just because they seemed innocent doesn't mean that they didn't know anything about their parents, family, and friends wrongdoings. perhaps it would be easier since they were familiar with her.

once they reached the door to slughorns event, riddle had stepped forward and offered his arm to her. she took it, albeit reluctantly, and eyed him suspiciously. he opened the door for the two of them, but did not hold it for the rest of his friends, leaving malfoy to scramble to not let the door slam. 

"how impolite," she said to him. 

he did not look toward her when he said, "i'm sure they were not offended." a small smirk was playing on his captivating features.

the party was not at all what she was expecting. for one, it was entirely underwhelming.

when she was younger, sicaria never had much interest in the nightlife, but after her parents deaths, she found solace in both magical and muggle nightclubs and speakeasies. this was nothing like those places. where the new york parties prioritized unwinding and fun, this was the exact opposite. 

boring and snobbish. everyone made sure to maintain their perfect manners, standing with perfect posture and speaking in unwaveringly polite voices. she almost internally groaned at the sight. she thought that perhaps slughorn would appreciate a bit of leisure, but this "party" clearly had other intentions. she reckoned that it was more for slughorn to show off his students, new and old, to show how far they had gotten. she knew from her files that slughorn like to take credit for things. 

one thing that did catch her off guard was the drinking. slughorn only invited students 5th year and up, and seeing fifteen year olds drink alcohol so casually interested her. back home, she didn't start drinking until she was sixteen, and everyone underage she knew would drink secretively, afraid to get caught. the people here downed glasses of whiskey like water. 

riddle continued to maneuver her throughout the party, sparing a polite smile and nod when they passed people. she wondered why she was still letting him lead her, but couldn't bring herself to remove his hand from her back. she could tell they were nearing professor slughorn because suddenly, riddle's demeanor stopped being that of a calculated teenager and became a charming socialite. she mirrored his actions, plastering on a wide, awe-struck smile to display to the professor, surrounded by a few students, and many older people whom she assumed were former members of the slug club. 

professor slughorn finally caught sight of the pair and his eyes brightened like someone had lit a fire in his brain. "tom, m'boy! and ms. edwards! how lovely to see you both! come tom, you must meet..." and he had started walking off, leaving him to follow though, riddle clearly did not like being told what to do. slughorn completely abandoned the group he was speaking to before, which not only showed his particular favoritism of tom, but allowed her to see the synchronized exhale of the group slughorn had just left. she slipped her hand out of his arm as he followed, but before she could take one step in the opposite direction, riddle had grabbed her wrist. 

"where are you going?" she fought hard with her nervous system to ignore the warm, tingling feeling of his hands on her skin. 

she hesitated for a moment too long before speaking. "to socialize." he let go of her wrist slowly before nodding and turning back to follow slughorn. 

"how romantic," a voice said in her ear as she flinched and whirled to face rosier, holding two drinks and grinning at her. she rolled her eyes.

he held out a drink to her, but she hesitated. rosier didn't strike her as that type, but it was habit for her to decline any drink that she hadn't watched get poured. rosier was a ladies man, but he didn't seem anything sinister. still, she took no chances. he seemed to realize this.

"oh, right. forgot," he said and retracted his hand. his tone didn't seem angry, but even still, sicaria worried that she had hurt his feelings. who cares? you're in this place to work, not make friends, idiot girl. she ignored the sneering voice, like she always seemed to when it came to her pseudo-friends. in any other reality, it would be nice to call them her friends, but getting attached when she had a job to do, and when she knew she would eventually leave and never see them again was not advisable. 

still, she flashed him an apologetic look. "it's not personal." 

he smiled lightly and shook his head. "i'm not offended." he said before downing the drink he had offered her in one long sip. "you should get one though. these things are unbearable to endure while sober." he held out his arm and she took it. 

he guided her over to the drink table where he pointed out a champagne that he said she'd enjoy. it was magical; a gold tint as it swirled slowly in the glass. she only took a small sip, needing her head to be clear for the rest of the night. "after the party we always have a bit of fun in the common room if you'd like to join." 

she only smiled and said "maybe." she planned on being high after the party, and that was the last thing she needed anyone at hogwarts knowing. she still wondered if dumbledore knew, or if he was just a vague bastard making her overthink her every move. 

she offered him a smile before excusing herself to go mingle around the crowd. there were at least 200 people in the room, and it was at capacity, but did not feel cramped. it seemed her original plan of going unnoticed was not going to work out; many of the students who had attempted to court her seemed to take this as a good opportunity to try again. she made sure to keep a full drink in hand as reason to not accept drinks that they insisted she take. 

she had gotten down some sort of routine now. she would walk aimlessly around for a moment, and then out of nowhere, a "gentleman" would come scurrying for their chance to accompany her. she would walk slowly, and sure enough they would follow. she led them to a secluded corner before discreetly casting the memory blocking spell before she asked about grindelwald. this brought any memories of grindelwald to the forefront of their minds where she could quickly use legilimency on them to determine whether they were worthy of full interrogation. she then casted the charm to resume memory and excused herself, then sure enough, another boy accosted her. 

the cycle continued all night. 

this process had proven to be very useful. she ended up adding five boys to her list, but crossing off and ruling out seventeen others. it was a good way to narrow down her list, and she couldn't help but feel accomplished. she'd do a few more, and then retire her interrogation for the night to sneak off and inhale the drug she still had stashed on her person. the organizational loop of repetition was starting to wear down at her, and she began to long to indulge in a bit of recklessness.

at about 10:45, she found herself in the presence of slughorn once again, but this time he was surrounded only by fellow students. riddle, malfoy, lestrange, nott, and rosier were among the mix.

slughorns eyes slowly drifted toward her, and she could feel the questions coming. remember your cover. "ms. edwards, you are new, so forgive me that i do not know much about you. what did your parents do for a living?" that's not a question about me, she thought, and what kind of person asks about someone's recently dead family? she smiled melancholically nonetheless, portraying the wistfulness of a new orphan, unconvincingly. riddle stared at her, seeing the sadness on her face did not quite reach her eyes. he almost wanted so laugh at her, wondering the ratio of time she spent lying to being truthful. deceitful little bitch.

"my father worked for the department of magical law enforcement in america. my mother was also a witch, but she chose to work in the muggle world. she worked for the muggle government in the federal bureau of investigation." lie. kind of.

"muggle government? what does that job entail?" slughorn asked jovially. everyone in the crowd knew the story that her parents had only recently died. some wondered why slughorn was being so insensitive, but also wondered why she seemed to have no problem talking about her dead family. 

"agents in the federal bureau of investigation handle domestic threats to the united states. they have several subdivisions, but i suppose they have similar functions to the department of magical law enforcement and magical accidents and catastrophes. they mainly focus on significant muggle crimes, like drug trafficking, murder, organized crime, and white-collar crime." she was a bit surprised; slughorn didn't seem like the type to be interested in the intricacies of muggle government, but she indulged him nonetheless.

"white-collar? organized crime? forgive me, so many terms i don't quite understand." she expected him to brush her off, but he waited for an explanation anyway. maybe he was just trying to get on her good side, but she couldn't see slughorn having a secret fascination with muggle crime fighting. the crowd of students gazed at her. some looked with hints of interest, perhaps wondering why muggle studies focused on how cars worked and not government and societal structure. some others looked at her with disgust; the pureblood supremacist crowd not particularly interested in the doings of muggles. her friends simply looked at her with mild interest, giving her the courtesy of knowing they were listening to her, even malfoy. 

"white-collar are crimes mostly committed by affluent people, financially motivated but usually nonviolent. organized crime is just a group of people who band together and do crime to turn a profit, but it usually involves narcotics or arms." she explained in the most simple of terms, fiddling with the ring on her middle finger. 

"do you intend to follow in their footsteps?"

she shook her head. "not exactly, sir. i've always wanted to go into the legislative branch of law enforcement. magical, of course, but i'd prefer to write international laws and pull the strings from behind the scenes." 

"international law?" he said delightedly. "then you must meet a friend of mine. he works in british-american relations with magical law! wait here!" he scurried off quickly, and sicaria debated running off while he was gone, but decided against it. 

several other students seemed to have this same idea, slipping away while slughorn was gone. riddle slid over toward her in slughorn's absence. she felt his presence beside her, but did not turn toward him. 

"how much of that was the truth?" he asked, looking directly at her. she took a few seconds of hesitation. she then downed the rest of her glass of champagne and turned to face him. 

"all of it." she lied unconvincingly, but there was no point if he was already so sure she was being untruthful. more alcohol started to pool in the bottom of her glass. magic truly was sensational. 

he did not laugh his time, and instead reached toward her wrist. "liar." he said smoothly, before taking the champagne glass out of her hand and bringing it to his lips, her eyes following. she swallowed. damn. his eyes still had never left hers, and she quickly snapped out of the trance she was in. 

"always the accuser, riddle. if you'd be so kind as to stay out of my personal space-"

"please, edwards, you've already shown me your hand. i have all the cards." he admitted that he knew the affect his touch had on her. it was a nauseating revelation. he was speaking quiet enough that only sicaria could hear him, but several pairs of eyes seemed to be glued to their confrontation.

"you've got some fucking nerve riddle, but i assure you-" she resorted to anger as she bit out a hushed response, stopped abruptly as slughorn finally returned with a rather familiar figure. 

it took her way too long to mask her astonishment, so long that every member of her friend group noticed. they also seemed to notice that the man slughorn was with also looked surprised to see her. "ms. edwards, this is barry campbell! he works as a liaison for british-american cooperation from a legal stance."

their eyes locked for a moment, and he raised an eyebrow slightly, seemingly asking her how to play this. she shook her head as slightly as she could without arousing suspicion from the eyes that were still on them. slughorn was taking a long swig of whatever dark green liquid he was drinking, so his attention was diverted for a moment. her friends, however, caught this.

she put her façade firmly back in place before sticking her hand out to his. they shook hands firmly, as he spoke. "pleasure to meet you, ms. edwards." she wanted to hex him for being so obvious, but her happiness to see a familiar face masked it. she smiled cordially at him, pretending that this was indeed their first meeting. 

they made natural conversation, her asking questions about his job, and him giving neat, tidy little responses. she made sure not to let anything slip. there was too much suspicion placed upon the pair as her friends continued to glance at the trio of her, barry, and slughorn every few seconds. their conversation finally hit an easy stop after only a few minutes. 

"nice meeting you mr. campbell. if i end up on my preferred path, perhaps i will see you soon." she hinted only slightly, making sure to keep her tone in tact. her eyes flickered over to the exit quickly and he seemed to understand. 

he nodded. "pleasure to meet you as well, ms. eddison." 

this man was smart.

he walked in the opposite direction of the door, but circled back around once he was far enough away. 

"you know him?" riddle asked, still holding her champagne glass. 

"no," she said, lying quickly. "but if you'll excuse me." she tried to step away, but once again, he grabbed on to her wrist before she could leave. 

"off so soon?" he challenged. his thumb swiped across her wrist, experimenting. she held her breath for a moment, willing her body not to betray her. 

"yes, unless you prefer i piss on the floor." she said, ripping her arm from his grip. he rolled his eyes as he conceded. 

"very crude." she walked toward the door, weaving though person to person. she wanted to look back to make sure none of them were following her, but that would be a suspicious look. 

stepping out the door, she closed it behind her, and waited a moment before turning and walking to the end of the hallway. the sound of her heels clicking on the floor was her only comfort as she walked down the candlelit hallway. the turned the first corner and there he was, leaning up against the wall. 

barry smiled brightly at her. "you play your part quite well, ms. edwards."


	12. x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halloween party pt. 2
> 
> non graphic drug use
> 
> also, there will be no love triangle sorry to disappoint (not sorry)

halloween, october, 1944

adonis rosier stepped back into the party, getting rid of the disillusionment charm he cast on himself. after seeing his newest friend hug a random bureaucrat in the middle of a school hallway, he had plenty of questions, but he knew he was not the best candidate to find those answers. he planned on eavesdropping, but sicaria was smart enough to cast some sort of spell over the pair. all that was said was a _"how are you?"_ before the view of them blurred, and the sound of them speaking was silenced. 

_you play your part quite well, ms. edwards._

_what the hell did that mean?_ rosier scratched his head as he side-stepped around people at the party in search of his friend.

in the common room earlier that day, riddle told malfoy, rosier, nott, and lestrange that their objective today was to observe edwards' behavior during the party, to see if she did anything out of the ordinary. from what he saw, she took to entertaining everyone who crossed her path for a few moments, before hastily discarding them. no one was able to get close enough to hear what was said. rosier prayed that she hadn't noticed. 

finally finding who he was looking for, he caught sight of tom riddle speaking hastily to nott and lestrange. he quickly walked up to the pair. he gave a nod of acknowledgement to nott before turning his attention to riddle. 

rosier leaned in and whispered to riddle. "she's in the hallway talking to the ministry guy. campbell i think. i couldn't break whatever silencing spell she put on them."

riddle nodded and set off toward the door but lestrange grabbed his forearm. "might want to disillusion yourself, mate." he advised. of course, riddle had already planned on doing this, but at least lestrange was starting to think affirmatively. lestrange was smart and charming, but he wasn't strategic enough to be a leader. nott had the opposite problem; smart and strategic, but his lack of charm made him come off as condescending. 

riddle exited the room and disillusioned himself after making sure no one was in the hall. he then took off in the direction that rosier had just come from. peering around the corner, he saw a blurry vision of campbell and edwards speaking very mercurially. it was an odd sight, seeing two people speaking but hearing nothing come out. 

tom was plagued with questioned as he watched the pair. 

_how did she know him?_

_why did she have to hide it?_

_what were they talking about?_

he cursed himself for wasting so much time. he quickly brought out his wand and twirled it between his fingers as he reached to the depths of his mind to think of what silencing spells she could have possibly used. given her fascination with magical theory, it wouldn't be so outlandish to suggest that this was a modified version of a spell she had innovated. 

he tried _finite_ with no luck, but he wasn't expecting it to work. he cast a magical analytic spell to see if he could disect the layers of the spell. if he could create even a small window, he'd be able to find a breakthrough. 

the analytic spell showed that the magical signature was not continuing, meaning that she was not actively casting the spell at all times. she casted the barrier once, and was not still protecting it. if part of the barrier dissolved, she would not notice. _foolish girl._

now that he figured that part out, he looked to the components of the barrier. there was a shield aspect to it, but when he casted _finite_ it had dissipated. now, all that was left was the auditory barrier. 

_go around, not through. if a door won't open, find another entrance._

he would have to cast two spells. one on campbell and one on edwards. he settled for _audire vocem tuam._ there were spells that allowed the caster to speak directly into the brain of the subject, but this spell did the opposite. it allowed the caster to have the words of the subject spoken directly into their brain. riddles spell would likely drop the moment she got rid of her sound barrier.

he came fully around the corner, and pointed his wand and quickly cast the spell on the two. as he predicted, the shield aspect was down, so there was nothing to stop the spell from hitting the pair. immediately, he could hear their voices in his head. 

"-counsel has foolishly high hopes." he only caught the end of campbell's sentence. 

"well i had already known they were a bunch of fools. thank you, by the way." _what was she thanking him for?_

"what for?" 

"don't be modest. dumbledore told me about the request you put in. i wasn't surprised they denied it, but i appreciate the effort." _what request? this man knew dumbledore?_

"well i thought i'd at least try." he sighed. "it's not legal, you know. what they're doing to you breaks so many international statutes." _who was making her do something? what were they making her do? what international statutes?_

"yeah, well i've been trying for two years now, but i've realized i haven't got much of a choice." she said somewhat dejectedly. _two years? trying to do what? what choice?_

they sat in silence for a moment before campbell cleared his throat. "well, how's the work part going?" _what work? schoolwork?_

she laughed slightly. her smile resembled that of when malfoy was making a fool of himself in front of her, unfiltered amusement. "trying to get me tried for treason? no, wait, they gave me a speech to say. _i can neither confirm nor deny involvement in any accusations you are making against me." treason? who is 'they'?_

he full out laughed. "a bit of a suspicious speech, no?" he said leisurely.

"i begged them to change it, but they don't like listening to my complaints, even when they aren't baseless." _what complaints?_

tom felt his frustration mounting quickly, as if they were purposefully evading the details of whatever they were talking about. his sick sense of entitlement made him delude himself into thinking that he was _owed_ knowing the details of their conversation, like they were speaking so vaguely with the intention of irritating him. he laughed at himself in spite.

"maybe," maybe said in a sarcastic tone. "if you weren't such an, how did garrison say it? _insolent little brat_ they'd listen to you more." _who's garrison?_

she rolled her eyes and let out a real laugh. tom gazed at the way her eyes looked as they rolled back and wondered if she would look the same as he strangled the life out of her. he also found himself looking at the way her body shook as she laughed, wondering if her reaction would be different if it was him who was entertaining her. 

"i suppose we should get back to the party. will you be at my hearing next sunday?" _what hearing?_

"yes, i will be in attendance. until then, ms. edwards." he stepped away from her and walked back toward the party. she stood in solitude for a moment longer, rolling her head around her shoulders. she cracked her neck and then shook her head, as if to clear her mind. she started walking directly toward tom. her expression shifted from the limited relaxation to the taut, impassive one that riddle almost always saw her wear. 

he stared at her for a second longer before moving. she passed him, walking directly into the bathroom on the left side of the corridor. he could smell her perfume breeze past him, and he followed a few feet behind her, waiting near the door of the bathroom. she shivered slightly, like she could sense him, but continued on through the door.

as sicaria pushed the door open, she let out a huge exhale. _finally,_ she thought as she cause a charm to ensure that no one was in the bathroom with her. she magically sealed the door before moving over to look at herself in the mirror. she stared at her reflection for a moment before scowling and shaking her head. quickly, she pulled the small bag out of her bra and opened it. 

she stuck her wand into the bag and used the tip to bring out every particle of the powder into a thin, straight line and magically placed it on the edge of the sink.

_don't do it. you're working._

she used her wand to banish the bag and then dropped to her knees. quickly, and well rehearsed, she pinched her left nostril and inhaled through her right, sighing as she finished. 

_you idiot. you're working._

she felt the familiar buzz of her lungs as she substance entered them, and anticipated the few minutes it would take for it to take affect. 

she snapped at the nagging voice in the back of her head. _it's already done, stop fucking complaining for once._

she got to her feet, and did a quick charm to restore her appearance. she cast another spell to banish any residue left on her face and on the sink before she made her exit. the voice was still babbling away, scolding her, but as the drug started to take affect, it became entirely incoherent. 

pushing the door open quickly, she turned to her left and came face to face with riddle. 

"fucking stalking me now, are you?" she walked past him, praying he wouldn't follow. he did.

"don't be so vulgar." he chastised, easily catching her stride.

"you're not my father," she sneered. "he's dead." _thank god._

"i'm sure you're smart enough to realize that professor merrythought will likely partner us to duel," riddle ignored her statement and changed the subject abruptly, walking down the hallway with her at his side. they were only a foot apart, but every time either of them drifted closer, sicaria took a slight step to the side.

she nodded. "yes. i do hope you won't also ambush me when i beat you."

he laughed at her boldness. a genuine laugh. "you won't beat me. but i'll entertain this imagination of yours, and say that in the event that you do beat me, i will not seek revenge."

"good, then i'll be sure to embarrass you." she turned toward him and smiled.

"you can try." he looked toward her, but his face contorted into one of suspicious interest when he looked into her eyes. "why do your pupils look like that?"

"weird reaction to alcohol," she said without missing a beat. this was a well practiced lie, and he seemed to believe it. "my mother had the same problem before she died."

they walked a few more steps, and sicaria's head buzzed at the mixture of her intoxication and her proximity to riddle. her mind swirled with memories and thoughts about him, and she spoke before she could stop herself. "why did you call me a bitch?" _never get intoxicated near tom riddle. ever._

"because i thought you were."

"and you still think i am?"

"yes," she smiled at his response. "but it's less insufferable now."

"flattery will get you nowhere mr. riddle." _well, time to pull out the real weapons then._

"did i offend you?"

she snorted in the most unladylike manner. "no. the word of a few teenagers isn't enough to hurt my feelings." her words came out in a different articulation than they usually did. 

_is she really that drunk? pathetic._

he suddenly stopped walking and reached toward her arm. she turned around, feeling the grasp of his hand around her wrist, but could not bring herself to pull her arm free. she stared at the contact before looking up at him, too high to think straight. "edwards, teach me wandless magic."

"no." she said immediately with a laugh. even in her state, she knew that was a terrible idea. 

"and why not?" he said like he was expecting her to object. he spoke, pulling her wrist slightly, moving her body toward his. her skin was warm and soft to the touch. he lightly scraped his thumb nail on the skin right over her radial artery.

"one, you have nothing to give me in return, and two, i wont have a magical advantage over you anymore." she said truthfully. if she was sober, she would not have said that. 

he laughed slightly as his other hand grabbed her other wrist. their bodies were almost touching, and despite her body screaming at her, she couldn't bring herself to step back. her brain was too scattered thinking about his wandless magic request to comprehend that he was manipulating her with his proximity.

"well i can't do anything about the second point," he said. "you are exceedingly arrogant."

"you are a shameless hypocrite."

he shrugged. "as for the first one, name your price."

she thought for a moment and pretended to consider. "when i think of something you can give me, i'll ask. until then, i'm sure there are many books in the library that can help you out." she smirked at him, knowing that there were no wandless magic books in the library. she learned wandless through many rituals as she traveled through several african nations, where most europeans and americans were to xenophobic to consider. 

he only looked at her, directly into her eyes. paranoia set in, and she wondered if she should cast a _glamour_ over her eyes so they looked normal.

"i hope you know, riddle," she started. "that your façade is not working on me. you smile in my face and speak very charmingly, but i can still see the rage in your eyes." it was not as eloquent as it would have been if she'd been sober, but it managed to get the point across. in fact, if she was sober, she likely would not have given that speech. 

"is that so?" he asked, but as usual, she saw the anger stirring. he was very good at masking it, both in facial expressions and tone of voice. "would you like to know then, what i see in your eyes."

"i don't particularly care, but sure, humor me."

"i see that you're a manipulative, little _bitch_. i see that you're hiding something and its eating away at you inside," his eyes travelled over her face trying to see if he had struck a nerve. he zeroed in when her eyes narrowed by a fraction of a centimeter. "when i look in your eyes, i can see you calculating what to say next. in fact, right now is the first time that i can tell you're actually saying whatever the first thought that comes to your mind is. you are much too systematic and you function like an algorithm, and you _think_ you hate me because you _know_ i'm figuring you out."

she gaped at him, and for the first time, he saw _fear_ in her eyes. he gave a malevolent grin and continued on his vitriolic tirade. 

"i pray that i'll be there when you inevitably collapse under the pressure of your own pride. you overindulged, and now you're paying for it because now, you can't manipulate the situation you're in. you've lost control. pity." he cocked his head slightly, mocking.

sicaria was dumbfounded. there were no words that her inebriated mind could come up with to rebuttal his speech. everything he said, and the way he said it, made it sound like a fact that could not be changed. he spoke in a tone that told her that he knew he was right, and nothing that she said could change his mind. 

"interesting observation." 

she mimicked the words from the night they met, and both of them knew she had no response. she would have to start being much more cautious around him. they took a few more silent steps as his words rattled around her brain. she felt dizzy. she should have waited until she was back in her dorm to get high, but she remembered her original plan of getting drunk too. _the more idiotic i act tonight, the more i-_

"what is most important to you now that your family is dead?" he asked. if she was dry, this would have been a question she would not have answered. she wouldn't even have lied, she would have simply said nothing. her scrambled brain led her to poor decision making.

"my friends, i guess. i don't really have many things of great importance." this was the best thing she could come up with, because she technically had _nothing._ she found her thinking that her only goal was survival, but saying she valued her life more than anyone else's felt a bit conceited. he would have understood though.

while she was thinking, she did not see the evil smirk that played on riddles lips as he formulated a plan. if she wouldn't oblige him willingly, he would find a way to make her.

"you truly are a fantastic liar, ms edwards." but she wasn't lying, and he knew it.   
  
"thanks for the compliment." she gazed at a moving painting of an old woman drinking straight from a bottle, and a young man seemingly yelling at her. it was quite theatric when he suddenly burst into tears and wept into the grass of the painting.  
  
"not good enough to fool me though."  
  
"i've successfully lied to you many times. i can tell when you don't believe me." _stop. talking._ the voice controlling her was back, but it was muffled. she could barely make out the alarm sirens blaring and the red flags dancing across her mind.

"forgive by skepticism." he did not look at her. "enlighten me."  
  
she shrugged. "believe what you want." the speed at which her responses came began to slow.

"maybe we are similar in many more ways than originally presumed." he said slowly.  
  
"come to lecture me on how we should overcome our differences?" she tripped over her words slightly, but if riddle noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

he noticed.  
  
"my parents are dead too." her eyes left the painting she had been staring at and turned to him, looking into his eyes. there was sincerity, but no grief. she did not offer condolences.  
  
"not mourning?"  
  
"i'd bet i hated mine more than you hated yours."  
  
"well you must have a large capacity for hatred then." he leered slightly at her, but his eyes were still on her odd demeanor. she noticed his gaze and quickly pulled out her wand.

"what are you doing?" he said as she muttered _nantis ad cutem_ and began to write on the palm of her hand with her wand. she did not answer and continued writing. 

once she finished, she showed him.

_'DONT ANSWER ANY MORE OF RIDDLES QUESTIONS'_

"clever girl," he complimented and smiled wickedly. 

"now if you'll excuse me," and with that, she turned back toward slughorns party. he stared intently after her, and she stalled for only a moment. 

"i'm still an occlumens." and she continued her stride. "if drinking was enough to distract me, then i never would."

 _interesting,_ he thought, and followed her back into slughorns room. 


	13. xi

november 1944

in the early morning hours of the day after halloween, sicaria and the boys finally made it back to the common room. the clock struck two as the six people helped each other stumble drunkenly through the dungeon door after sicaria muttered the password. 

unlike their companions, riddle and sicaria looked mostly normal, aside from her eyes. riddle did not drink enough to make him act unusually, and sicaria was well practiced in hiding her intoxication. in fact, nothing would seem wrong with her unless you looked too hard, or asked too many questions.

"well edwards," rosier said as he plopped himself on a couch. "how was that for your first _slug club_ party, eh?"

"it was honestly terrible. i don't understand why you all put up with it." she answered honestly. the party was hell to get through, even while she was conducting interrogations. 

"free liquor," lestrange shrugged and malfoy laughed.

riddle stood listening to the five people behind him as he stared at the fire. he left the party with many more questions about edwards than answers, and he had originally hoped to get some information about her, but his four friends seemed far too intoxicated to be able to hold a conversation. he wanted to curse them for their childishness. _it'll just have to wait until tomorrow._

"oh dear sicaria," rosier started in a singsong voice.

"yes dear adonis?" she responded in an equally cheery tone.

"we're friends right?"

"the very best." riddle's ears zeroed in on this conversation. _my friends, i guess,_ she had responded when he asked what she cared about most.

"and friends do each other favors, yes?"

"that depends on if the friend stops beating around the bush and asks for what he wants." she replied. she did not enjoy stalling and wished he would just ask for what he wanted. 

"so sicaria, may i ask you a favor?" rosier slurred.

"you may ask, adonis, but i cannot guarantee you an answer you'll like." she misarticulated.

"that's fair. the favor is-" he stopped. "are you alright? your nose is bleeding." she quickly got her wand and did the healing charm to stop the bleeding, and then banished the blood from her nose. she slumped back in her chair, hoping that they'd forget by tomorrow. _  
_

"anyway," he continued. "i fancy your friend, davidson. i hoped you'd ask her to come eat with us during mealtimes." he lied. riddle smiled at the fire. _rosier you bloody genius, you never cease to surprise me._ even while intoxicated, he managed to do his job, meanwhile nott was staring out the window into the lake, and malfoy and lestrange were arguing over a painting that hung on the dungeon wall.

"you like venus? why? she nothing but an opportunistic gossip. i mean, she's very pretty but she isn't kind. what is it you see in my dearest female friend?" she wrinkled her nose at the thought of the girl she had desperately tried to befriend, but venus' personality was just too unlikable. 

"she fancies me too?" rosier said.

"was that all you got from my speech?" she looked incredulously at him, but all he returned was a pleading smile. she sighed. "fine, if it'll make your little heart happy."

"i know you're only agreeing because your drunk, but i do plan to hold you to it when you're sober."

she shrugged. "and i'll resent you for it." he beamed at her. 

"edwards is a better friend to me in one month than you bastards have been for the past seven years." he called to the rest of the group, and immediately, this sparked an argument. not wanting to stick around for the drama, she prepared to make her exit.

"right, then," she said, standing from the chair she was sitting in. "i'm off to bed." she said, but tripped slightly on the edge of the table. "damned heels." she took off her shoes, but the cold floor of the dungeon made her shiver. 

seeing her stumble, lestrange hurried over as fast as his own wobbly legs would bring him, and offered his arm. when she batted him away he rolled his eyes dramatically. "stop being so bloody stubborn and let me help you."

she didn't need his help, but if he wanted to feel useful, who was she to deny him that pleasure? "you need help more than i do." but she took his arm nonetheless. a chorus of _good night_ 's rang from the common room as she and lestrange left.

she strode down the hallway, lestrange struggling to keep up with her speed as his drunken state was inhibiting his motor skills. "you're rather composed for someone so drunk." she only shrugged. 

"one of my many talents," she said as she reached for her doorknob. the knob did not glow the way it did when abraxas touched it when her hand grasped it. 

"wait!" she had her body halfway through the door, but his arm was still grasping hers. "one of my wards will put you in a coma if you cross the doorframe." _YOU SHOUDLD NOT HAVE SAID THAT. why did you say that? stop saying things. never speak again._

at his horrified expression, she decided that next time, she would get high in her bathroom and lock herself behind closed doors.

but where is the fun in that?

•••

the following morning was a sunday, and she allowed herself to sleep in. it wasn't until almost 10 a.m. that she finally got out of bed and took a shower. she had a two hours before lunch started, so she decided to write out the information she had learned last night. 

her ongoing list of interrogation prospects had shrunk quite a lot after last night, but she did add some names, and move some to a priority. racking her brain, she tried to think past the haze and to the names that she needed to remember. perhaps dumbledore would let her use his pensieve.

_aviana carrow_

_rodrick bell_

_andante fawley or cadenza fawley_

_caroline macmillian_

_jade greengrass_

_alphard black or cygnus black_

she sighed as she realized that she would likely have to interrogate her friends.

_adrien lestrange_

_adonis rosier or druella rosier_

_thomas nott_

she paused for a moment. was tom necessary to interrogate? she couldn't recall a time he had said anything about blood purity. was he even a pureblood?

 _tom riddle._ she thought back to when lestrange had called him "tom marvolo riddle." the surname riddle was unfamiliar, but the name _marvolo_ resonated with her, though she could not place where she had heard it. she shoved it to the back of her mind to research later. she closed her notebook and set it away. her head was still throbbing from all she had consumed last night, but she didn't get a hangover potion.

she liked to think of the pain as a punishment for her foolishness last night, but she would do it again, over and over again. part of the fun was cleaning up the mess that past-sicaria had made. all she could do was pray that they had been to intoxicated to hold on to what she said, but they would. even while intoxicated, she found herself being manipulated by them, not that she noticed this time. standing up, she stuffed her wand into the pocket of her robes and sighed as she made here way to the common room. 

looking through the fifty or so slytherins occupying the common room, she could see the five boys were conversing in a far corner. recently, she was seeing them in the common room much more often than they had in previous weeks. she continued her stride toward the door, praying not to be noticed, but nott's eyes snapped up just in time. he nudged riddle and soon, all five eyes had snapped toward her. 

she didn't notice though until rosier's voice called out to her. "edwards!" _damn it._

"what?" she asked flatly, turning her body to face them. they were several feet away and she couldn't help but think they had to have been waiting for her. why else would one of them had searched her out in this crowd?

"remember what you promised to me last night?" _yes._

"no." she lied. "enlighten me."

he smirked. "i asked if you'd bring davidson to eat lunch and dinner with us." 

"and i agreed?"

"you did."

"i was-"

"drunk? yeah, so was i."

she shifted her weight on to her other foot impatiently. "not getting out of this one am i?"

lestrange smiled as the four of them stood up from their corner and walked toward her. she glanced at each of their faces and saw that they were incredibly put together. it looked like they had never been drinking at all, she assumed this was because they had much more experience drinking at slughorn's parties and then going to class the next morning than she did.

nott held out his arm toward her and she took it reluctantly. he gave her a smile that looked almost apologetic, but before she could question it, malfoy spoke. 

"is the idea of dining with us really that repulsive to you?" his voice was deep and loud, only hurting the dull throbbing in her head more. she savored the pain.

"would you prefer i lie or hurt your feelings?"

"as if your presence is so desired." he leered. her relationship with malfoy was complicated, to say the least. they seemed to both tolerate each other's company well enough in a group setting, but if one spoke directly to the other, it always ended in bickering. it wasn't pleasant, per say, but it felt like much more of a friendly jest than the arguments of two bitter enemies. 

"it is to your friends," she retorted. seeing tom still sitting, she called out. "too good to join us, riddle?"

his eyes snapped away from nott's to hers and he sneered. "i have studying to do, i'll be up in a minute. do try not to miss me too much."

"pity, i was hoping you'd say you were." she turned and walked with the other four boys in the direction of the dungeon door. sure, it was entirely plausible that he was skipping lunch to study, but something told her not to take things at face value when it came to riddle. 

she set off with the four boys in the direction of the great hall. as they passed a courtyard, she felt relaxation as the cool autumn breeze passed her face. the boys surrounding her laughed loudly and spoke excitedly, the conversation of old friends who had only lived in the presence of each other. growing up, she had almost no contact with people her age until her parents died. it was only then that she made friends, some her age and some many decades older, but those all died out as work began to take over her life. she theorized that this might have been the cause for her quick attachment to the (three? four? five? her ideas of riddle and malfoy wavered daily) boys she had come to know only for a month. they seemed to like her enough to constantly desire her presence, but she couldn't decide whether that was pure suspicion or pure entitlement.

they entered the great hall. malfoy and nott sauntered over to their usual spot at the table, and rosier and lestrange accompanied sicaria over to where venus usually sat. davidson's eyes snapped up from the table and then widened when she saw who sicaria was with.

"what are you- oh hello adrien," venus gave a model-worthy smile, completely ignoring the other two people in front of her.

"change of plan's venus," her eyes narrowed. "we're eating with these assholes today."

•••

that evening, she avoided her friends and opted to spend the last of the weekend planning her interrogations for next week. she would have a more concrete idea after her meeting with dumbledore tomorrow. 

the rest of lunch was fine, riddle entering only ten minutes after the rest had begun eating. rosier laid on his charm on venus, who gladly reciprocated. it seemed that venus was much more taken with him than he was with her. _how unfortunate,_ sicaria thought, but couldn't being herself to feel particularly bad. _when did you become so vindictive?_

she spent the rest of her afternoon looking through the library; searching through everything from magical almanacs and british ministry laws, to-

"pureblood genealogy? i'm sure you'll see some familiar last names in there." she whipped her head around and saw riddle standing only a few feet behind her chair. 

"i don't understand the european obsession with blood purity." she said. it was a semi-truth. she had the reasoning behind their prejudices explained to her, but it still didn't make sense. she also lied about her implication that america did not have this same problem (they did, and on a much worse scale). "and don't sneak up behind me. it's weird."

"many don't understand that the ability and ambition of the wizard is what makes them a good one. but, if people are so obsessed with a particular idea then it makes it easy to rally them around that cause, and they become collectively useful." he made his way around to stand in front of her as he talked. her eyes narrowed at his words. they reminded her of something malfoy said during his interrogation, something about _the means to an end_. she didn't dare ask riddle about this, not knowing what kind of information he would give. _ask dumbledore about the knights of walpurgis._

"do you know who adolf hitler is?" she asked, diverting the conversation. 

"of course i do," he sneered. "don't compare me to that poor excuse of a leader."

"forgive me for drawing the comparison between your sentiments and his. i assume the idea that you speak of rallying around is the subjugation of no-maj's and wizards with no-maj parents? how is that different from what hitler is doing to non-aryan's?" she preferred the british term of muggle, but she was trying to make a point.

"when have i given the impression that i hold disdain for muggles and their magical offspring?" he asked with the air of light conversation, as if she was not asking him for his stance on two ongoing international wars. he'd make an excellent politician. charming, power-hungry, and master manipulator were all the skills needed, all of which he had exceedingly.

"do you deny it?" she quipped.

"is there a point in denying or affirming it if you'll believe what you want about me no matter what i say?" he tiptoed around giving any sort of information about his views. _is he trying to hide his views? or does he just enjoy messing with me?_

she took a frustrated breath and closed _Notable Purebloode Magick Surnames_. _why is he so difficult?_ his words circled around the point, padding his sentences with meaningless verbiage designed to not give any actual answer. 

"are you a pureblood?" she flipped to an alternate line of questioning, hoping it would catch him off guard enough to tell if he'd lie or not.

"are _you_ a pureblood?" he countered, amused by her frustration. _how he enjoyed toying with her._

she inhaled. "how juvenile. i've already told you both my parents were wizards."

he leaned over the desk toward her. "that doesn't make you a pureblood."

"would it appease you if i said 'my name is sicaria edwards and i am a pureblood'?"

"yes, but we've already established that you are a habitual liar." he shrugged in a thoughtful tone, but he did make note that she also did not directly answer the question. 

she inhaled harshly. "what is the point of asking anything if you'll accuse me of lying either way?"

"it's easier to tell the lies from the truth if i keep forcing you to choose."

"then i guess you'll just have to find out for yourself. i don't even think you care about blood purity." _change the subject._

"would i have asked if i didn't care?" he asked the question as if he was asking her to describe _his_ thought process.

"you didn't ask because you cared. you asked because you wanted to deflect from the fact that you've given me no direct answers." she was whisper shouting as loudly as she could without drawing the attention of the librarian. a ghost floated through the shelf next to them, and only glared at the pair before passing through the next.

"do i owe you a direct answer?"

"if you expect one from me."

"we reap what we sow, edwards."

they stared at each other for a moment before she stood. marching over to the place the book previously was, she reached to set it back on its place in the shelf. the smell of the dust surrounding the bookcase was both comforting and nauseating. "well now that you've sufficiently dampened my mood, i-"

 _she thinks we're done with this interaction? oh no, no, no. foolish girl._ sicaria would soon learn that riddle was a loose cannon. she couldn't afford to believe she'd always be calling the shots around him. 

their interactions were paradoxical. there was no mutuality when they were together. if tom was in control, then sicaria was not. if sicaria was in control, then tom was not. when it was sicaria, tom would always be fighting his way back to power, but when it was tom, sicaria only did what she needed to survive. he was _fight,_ she was _flight._

the rest of her sentence caught in her throat when she turned around, back to the bookshelf and was less than a foot from riddle. _how did he manage to sneak up on me like that?_ she looked into his eyes and willed her body not to make a fool of herself. "is personal space a foreign concept to british people?"

he laughed slightly and inched toward her more. her back pressed further into the bookshelf but she ensured her face remained completely blank. she did not dare be the first to break eye contact. he reached toward her hand, but she moved it. he took a larger step toward her. "what are you doing?"

"tell me to move." he asserted. his deep green eyes did not move from hers, as he searched her face for any betrayal of what she was feeling. she remained stoically inexpressive. 

"move." she complied, but only because she would have told him to move whether or not he asked her to. that's what she told herself. 

"no." he said, stepping even closer. surely she should have expected this, but it was amusing to him nonetheless, watching her quickly flicker through plans in her mind to disarm him. their chests were touching. every nerve in sicaria's body was screaming at her to get away from him. _wand. where's my wand?_ she couldn't think straight; the smell of the books and his cologne was making her dizzy, intoxicatingly overwhelming. _wake up, sicaria. what the hell are you doing?_

"move." she said more forcefully this time. she brought her hands up to push him, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head against the bookshelf. _WAND. WHERE IS MY WAND?_

he took one hand to brush the hair off the side of her face as he leaned dangerously close to hers, bust she turned her head. at the last second detoured and his lips brushed her ear. "teach me wandless magic. i won't _ask_ again." they were whispered in a tone she had never heard from him before, and the combination of this, his lips on her ear, and his breath on her neck made her body shiver. she fought hard to suppress it, but couldn't; it was setting her body on fire. she could not see it, but he smiled so widely, so _venomously,_ that surely his face would split in two. he was eliciting reactions from her that made her momentarily forget she was a witch, and could easily get him off of her in seconds if she _actually_ wanted to. she squeezed her eyes closed and back open, clearing herself.

the weight of his request snapped her in whatever daze her mind trapped her in and she finally used wandless magic to push his body off of her. he slid back three feet and his hands slipped away from her wrists. she summoned her wand to her, but did not point it at him. she surveyed him, the malevolent grin he hid replaced with a self-satisfied smirk.

he was used to pushing the boundaries of magic, but not so much at pushing the boundaries of human nature. a fascinating little research project she was; something that let him gain more knowledge, but also indulge in a little amusement of his own. he kept chanting to himself _the means to an end, all part of the plan_ over and over in hopes that he could remind his body of the truth. 

"my answer has not changed." and she turned away, but he grabbed her wrist. _why does he always do that?_

"i'm warning you. next time i will not be so civil." his grip tightened, likely leaving bruises.

"oh my, i'm terrified." she countered sardonically. she looked into his eyes, and where there was once dark green, there was a faint red just barely noticeable around his irises. 

"i have ways of _making_ you do it if i have to. don't make me resort to immoral means, ms. edwards." he threatened. _what could a teenage schoolboy possibly do?_

she only now took notice of his speaking pattern. he was more formal when he was threatening her.

" _bite me_." she goaded, and ripped her arm away, storming out of the library. 

_wrong answer,_ he thought, watching her as she quickly widened the distance between them. _be careful what you wish for._


	14. xii

november 1944  
  
  
  


_TO: S. EDWARDS_

_ENCLOSED CONTENTS CLASSIFIED. URGENT. OPEN IMMEDIATELY._   
  


_MAGICAL CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA_   
_223 BROADWAY, WOOLWORTH BUILDING,_   
_10019 MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA_

_DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT_   
_OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR OF MAGICAL SECURITY_   
_43rd FLOOR, NORTH REGION, SECTIONS 13-78_   
_SUBDIVISON: PANEL OF FOREIGN SURVEILLANCE ASSETS_   
  
  


_MEMO:_

_To Miss S. Edwards,_

_The Panel of Foreign Surveillance requests your presence Sunday, November 7, 1944. You are to be escorted by A. Dumbledore and will travel via secure Floo Network from your current location._

_The Panel will be prepared to assess your developments in your ongoing investigation (REFERRING TO "Foreign Reconnaissance and Intervention [on authority of the NON-DOMESTIC AFFAIRS Act of 1865] Operation Number 909-4637-21: Authorization Granted by OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR OF MAGICAL SECURITY") and take personal witness statements from you (if deemed necessary) or requests for immediate detainment, extradition, or termination of witnesses of person(s) of interest._

_The Panel will provide a follow up psychological evaluation if requested._

_The Panel will also evaluate your request for certain classified files. Be prepared to explain your request for the following files (REFFERING TO "Messia Malfoy-Upsillon: general", "known British Ministry affiliates of: Daniel Mercanthy", "Alicia Harley: witness and victim archives")._

_The Panel has generously taken the liberty of having wizarding American, French, and British newspapers delivered to you daily. They should arrive every morning near 9 a.m._

_The hearing will begin at 3 p.m. sharp. The Panel does not appreciate tardiness._

_attached form: send response immediately confirming arrival of this message._

_Regards,_

_Secretary to the OFFICE OF THE DIRECTOR OF MAGICAL SECURITY_   
_Alessandria Goldenberg_

_Co-signed by PANEL OF FOREIGN SURVEILLANCE ASSETS_

_HARRISON ALIOPA_   
_EILEEN VOTA_   
_PAULINE RICHTER_   
_KATHERINE MONROE_   
_GARY MONROE_   
_BARRY CAMPBELL_   
_CHESTER GARFIELD_   
_WINIFRED SUTHERLAND_   
_BRADLEY EATON_   
_KENDALL KEENE_   
_CLIVE LANCASTER_   
_PAXTON OAKES_

_Post Script: Any further requests for your dismissal, whether by you or on your behalf, without legitimate cause will result in disciplinary action._   
  
  


sicaria sighed. _them and their damned hearings._ "so i won't be able to get the files until the weekend? any way we can move the meeting up?"

"you could file a request-" she didn't mean to interrupt but she shook her head.

"they'll say no to almost anything i ask for. it's fine, i'll just figure something out in the meantime." she placed the paper back into her bag after removing the bright red envelope that was attached. she recognized the charm; to members of the council, the secretary, dumbledore, and her, they'd see her name. anyone without clearance in macusa would see the words _'CLASSIFIED BY ORDER OF THE DIRECTOR OF MAGICAL SECURITY'._ once the letters left macusa and arrived at hogwarts, it simply said 'sicaria edwards'.

dumbledore cleared his throat before shifting through a few papers on his desk. he apparently found the paper he was looking for and held it up as he read off of it. "well, now lets get on to what i have to tell you. i assume you know who vinda rosier is?"

she nodded.

"she coordinated an attack recently. british intelligence sorted through the leftovers of the village and there were no bodies, so we must assume that there were no survivors."

"was there a motive? random genocide never seemed grindelwalds' style."

dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "no, you're right. he was always much more... rational." dumbledore spoke in a tone that made it seem like sicaria was missing something. maybe he was intentionally leaving something out. he rubbed his temples and then snapped out of it quickly. "however, they did not find a motive, but they have asked me to tell you to look into the rosiers. you've grown close with adonis rosier, correct?"

she waved her hand in a dismissive motion. "we're acquaintances. i doubt he knows much though; he doesn't seem the blood purity type. what about his cousin, druella?"

"perhaps both, to be safe."

"right," she said, twisting the citrine ring around her finger. she debated in her head for a moment on whether or not to ask this of dumbledore, but what did she have to lose? dumbledore did not rush her. "have you heard of the name 'knights of walpurgis'?"

whatever dumbledore thought she was going to ask, this clearly wasn't it. he hesitated before speaking (much unlike his usual silver-tongue) and when he did, it was a slow articulation. "is this a personal or professional question?"

she quickly grew irritated. "why ask a question if you already know the answer? they aren't aligned with grindelwald if that's what you're implying."

his mouth twitched into a ghost of a smile, but his expression was still wary. "i cannot give information about my students private organizations. however, if you are to do some private investigation, one might think it wise to start with those in proximity to you."

"you mean malfoy? nott?" dumbledore only shrugged. "riddle? rosier? _lestrange?"_ he continued to only shrug, but something in his expression told sicaria that she was on the right track.

he smiled at her. "well, if that's all we have..."

"no, i have one more question, i'm just trying to work up the nerve to ask."

"take as much time as you need."

she racked her brain for one last search of the name _marvolo_ but she could not place it. she spent a bit of time looking through all her files for the name, but once again came up with nothing. she tried to tell herself over and over again that this was purely for the investigation, but some part of her deep down wanted to discover something that riddle had so desperately tried to hide from her: his blood status. _riddle_ was not a famous pureblood wizarding name, but _marvolo_ felt so familiar that she had to know.

"do you know anyone by the name _marvolo_?"

if he looked shocked by her earlier question, it was nothing compared to the face he made this time. he gazed at her for a long time. she started to panic, hoping she hadn't said something out of line. she scrambled to find words.

"forgive me, it's unimportant. i'll just go-"

"marvolo gaunt."

_gaunt._

the lightbulb went off in her head. "right! the last of the gaunt family. his daughter ran away and ended up dying and his son is in azkaban for life, correct?" she remembered seeing the headline that morfin gaunt had been arrested for murder causing ' _The Fall from Grace of one of the Last Great Pureblood Families'_ as a New York Tribune (the biggest wizarding newspaper in new england) journalist had put it.

he stared at her wide-eyed for a few more seconds. "yes, that's correct. do you know what he is incarcerated for?"

"murder, right?"

"yes. the murder of _three_ of his _muggle neighbors._ "

something about the way he emphasized those words made her uneasy. "mr. dumbledore are you trying to tell me something?"

"i'm not sure how to phrase this and keep my conscience clean simultaneously. give me one moment," he stood from his desk and walked over to a large filing cabinet placed against the wall. the moment he tapped his wand to the cabinet, it flew open and hundreds of papers nearly exploded out of it. he waved his wand and most of the papers slowly refiled themselves back into the cabinet.

three papers did not, and they stood suspended in midair. dumbledore grabbed them and then returned to his seat in front of her. he studied her for a second longer before holding out the papers to sicaria. she stuck her hand out and took them.

the first was a newspaper clipping from the daily prophet. august 18, 1943. it read: _Last member of the Gaunt Family sentenced to life in Azkaban for triple-murder._

the next morfins arrest record. _resisting arrest, assault of a muggle, assaulting an officer. imprisoned 1925, released 1928._  
 _murder of muggle (three counts). use of unforgivable (killing curse) (three counts). imprisoned 1943, will not be eligible for release._

her brow furrowed. studies showed that prolonged exposure to dementors lowered ones ability to cast magic that draining. three years in azkaban was surely enough to drain him enough that he wouldn't be capable of casting anything stronger than a stinging jinx.

the last paper was from a muggle newspaper dated august 1943, _Great Hangleton Tribunal._ it was an obituary. _Today we send our condolences to those who knew Thomas and Mary Riddle, and their son Thomas "Tom" Riddle. They recently died of natural causes._

 _riddle._ her eyes flickered between the pages as she struggled to piece these stories together. thomas riddle. that had to be his father correct? why else would dumbledore give her this newspaper? then who was his mother? gaunt killed the riddles? but why? and how? her eyes flickered up to dumbledores face and her expression was horrified.

she swallowed. "the daughter. what year did gaunt;s daughter die?"

"1926." 17 years ago. _how old is tom?_

tom said his parents were both dead, and that he hated them both. her eyes dropped down to the papers once again. _merope died and morfin went to prison, then what? he returned three years later, waited 14 years, and then killed the riddles? but why? how was morfin even able-_

 _id' bet i hated mine more than you hated yours._ motive _._ he said this to her on halloween.

she shook her head. hatred was one thing, but murder? there was no way to prove- prove what? it was outlandish. how could a sixteen year old be capable of murder?

 _you were,_ a grim voice said in the back of her head. she ignored it. 

"did morfin ever give a motive?"

"nothing aside from hating those 'filthy muggles' as he put it."

_no motive._

"i'm not sure what you're implying, mr. dumbledore."

"i'm not implying anything," he stated firmly, as if someone had insulted him. "i am merely providing you with public information."

was it really that outlandish? "he was in prison for three years. the dementors..."

"dementors do have a draining effect on a wizards magic. i'm sure you're familiar with the inbreeding practices of old pureblood families, and that also made his magic feeble before he was even born. morfin was not a particularly powerful wizard even prior to his imprisonment." he stated matter-of-factly. nothing seeped through in his tone. he was laying out all the pieces, waiting for her to put the puzzle together.

_no means._

"it seems to me that you think that tom riddle murdered his parents and grandparents and then framed morfin gaunt."

"i know you do not need this reminder, but i will say it nonetheless. speculation is a healthy tool, but i must insist that you do not accuse things you cannot concretely prove, no matter how _plausible_ they may be." the way dumbledore tiptoed around an outright answer was familiar. 

"you didn't deny it."

"i don't affirm it."

"but you don't deny it."

he turned to look at the window. "no, i suppose i did not."

neither of them spoke for several long minutes. all she could think in her head was how odd this all seemed. sure, tom was creepy, but a murderer? of his own family nonetheless. morfin certainly couldn't have done it, he didn't have the magical ability to cast the killing curse, nor did he have any real reason. something wasn't right. why would he confess to a crime he did not commit?

"i advise you to be wary of mr. riddle. i suggest that you read chapter 65 of _Hogwarts: A History_ with this conversation in mind." he finally said.

"are you saying that i'll discover something, and it'll be true, but i won't be able to prove it?"

"that's exactly what i'm saying. except i'm not saying that at all."

she blinked. _this man and all his fucking riddles._ "alright."

dumbledore nodded solemnly at her. "any more questions that i cannot answer?"

sicaria smiled slightly at the man and shook her head. "perhaps at our next meeting. do you have a copy of _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"no, but i'm sure there are many in the library. it may be wise to ensure none of your _companions_ see you reading that chapter." he said lightly, smiling as though he was watching a rainbow come from behind a cloud.

"acquaintances," she corrected, more reminding herself than dumbledore. "why can't-"

"best be off then, ms. edwards! i don't want to take up any more of your time!" he cut her off immediately. she took this as her queue to leave and made her exit, bidding her professor goodbye.

stepping outside dumbledore's office, sicaria was greeted by the glow of the setting sun piercing through the windows lining the hallway. the slowly dimming sun in juxtaposition to the slight rain was straight out of a painting. it was dusk, and she still had one more errand to run in her long day of tasks.

it would take a while to get there; dumbledore's office was on the second floor on the east side of the castle, but the owlery was at the top of the west tower, higher than the seventh floor. her steps carried her across the grassy courtyard. she walked at a leisurely, but quick pace, taking in some time to see throughout the castle. as beautiful as the architecture was, the medieval technology of the castle was tedious to sicaria. perhaps they should invest in an elevator. 

as she climbed the many staircases, she felt the chill evening breeze brush past her face. it had a sedative affect, calming her racing heartbeat. it didn't relieve the anxious feeling she had in the bottom of her stomach though. she never felt great after letters from her job, but there was something on top of that anxiety. she couldn't place the source of the feeling, deciding that perhaps it was just paranoia.

as she climbed the stairs up the west tower, she saw an owl depart from one of the lowest windows in her direction. she followed the massive, grey bird with her eyes as it flew past her, and in her line of sight, she saw two pairs of muddy footprints, one of them hers and one of them not belonging to her.

her face gave no indication that she had even seen the footprints, but whoever it was must have been disillusioned and silent. she turned her eyes back to the owlery and made it to the top of the staircase. stepping inside, she pulled out her wand slowly. someone was following her. who? and why?

" _expelliarmus_ ," she cast quickly in the direction of the doorway, and a wand flew to her hand. she studied it for a moment before connecting the dots. "to what do i owe the pleasure, nott? _finite_."

both the disillusionment and silencing charms on him dissolved, and she saw him learning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. his light brown hair was slightly damp, but his eyes shone as he smiled sheepishly at her. "forgive me, ms edwards."

she turned back toward the owls with a red envelope in hand. he could just make out the name _alessandria goldenberg_ on the front. his eyes flickered as he tried to remember if he had ever heard her mention the name. come to think of it, she had never mentioned _anyone_ from her life before hogwarts by name. she never even said the names of her parents. she made sure to never say anything specific about her life, and something about that was odd.

"no offense taken. should i ask why you were stalking me or do you plan to lie?" she spoke but did not turn to face him, she was still placing the letter in the beak of the owl.

"i would have to lie." he said truthfully. she gazed into his eyes and saw the guards up in the realms of his mind. legilimency would not work without having to alert him to the fact she was using it on him.

"i see. i wont ask then." she cast _muffliato_ on herself before whispering to the owl. "department of magical law enforcement, manhattan, new york." the monochrome black owl hooted dutifully before flying out the same window the grey one did.

her body then turned to him, and she stood there smiling. one wave of her wand lifted the spell. "here's a tip. if you're going to lie, or have already lied, never admit it unless it serves a strategic purpose."

"and why is that? if you knew i was going to lie, then what would be the point in lying anyway?" nott asked.

"because now i know there's a reason. if you had said that it was a coincidence we were here at the same time, a less intelligent person could convince themselves they being paranoid, but now that you've admitted you'll give no reason, i know something more nefarious is going on." her thought process was hard for her to explain, but this was the closest she could come to explaining.

he shrugged. "i didn't want to insult your intelligence that way."

"i appreciate the thought."

he laughed and then responded. "can i have my wand back?"

"not yet, i still haven't assessed whether you plan to attack me."

"it would be foolish of me to do so. i wouldn't delude myself that i'd be able to best you in a duel one-on-one. riddle told us about your run in with those gryffindors a few weeks back." he thought about her words for a moment and then nodded. "your thing about lying makes sense. why tell me this though? what if in the future i lie to you and get away with it?"

she chuckled slightly and tossed his wand back to him. he caught it effortlessly. "it took me years of practice to become the liar i am, thomas. i doubt you'll be able to best me in a matter of months."

"quite the strategist you are. reminds me of riddle." he surveyed her as if trying to gauge how she responded to the comparison of their behaviors.

sicaria's expression soured at the analogy. "come along, if you're done insulting me." the pair made their way out of the owlery, retracing the muddy footprints they had left on their way up. "i wouldn't advise following me anymore. i don't think i'll be so kind next time."

"i won't. how can i make it up to you?" he lied. _i'll be more careful next time._

"do you have a copy of _hogwarts: a history_?"

"that book is beyond boring. what d'you want it for?"

she shrugged and frowned. "bit of light reading."

they reached the bottom stair of the tower and nott looked toward her quizzically. "an old book is all it'll take to make you forgive me?"

she fell into stride beside him. "you didn't ask for my forgiveness, you asked to make it up to me."

"i suppose you're right. i'll let you use my copy of the book." whenever he spoke, it was always quickly, but very calculated. it was something that she had noticed with all the boys. their words seemed practiced. perhaps it was a rich people thing; being able to talk smoothly even in high pressure situations. "and how may i earn your forgiveness?"

she thought for a moment about other things she needed, but could come up with nothing he could give her. "you'll just have to wallow in the guilt until i think of something else i need."

"you and riddle are exactly alike." the honesty in his tone was palpable and it made her sick. "you don't talk the way he does, but your actions are so similar."

"comparing me to him is not a good way of getting back on my good side."

he wanted to pry but made sure to phrase his question carefully. "why are you in such opposition to being compared to him? most would consider it a compliment."

"would you take it as a complement?"

"it depends on the context the comparison was made in." he said without hesitation, and sicaria could see adoration and loyalty in his eyes, but it was accompanied by an almost unnoticeable trace of resentment.

"and in what way were you comparing riddle and i?"

"what way did you think i meant? what assumption have you made about him?"

she shook her head. "if i answer that, you'll run back and tell him what i said, won't you? you are all very loyal to each other. its something i first noticed about you and your friends."

he hesitated for a moment, and then spoke slowly and carefully, as though he was trying to convey something to her without outright saying it or incriminating himself. "we're brothers. all five of us. i'd walk through hell and back for them, and they'd do the same for me."

she did not respond and neither of them spoke for a moment. she filed that bit of information about them into her mental cabinet surrounding the five boys. nott and sicaria took several flights of stairs back in the direction of the slytherin common room. on the last staircase, he asked her his final question.

"where are you from?" nott used his arm to guide her down the stairs.

she looked at him blankly. "the united states."

"more specifically."

"manhattan. in new york." she admitted and he nodded. he bit his tongue from asking anything further. 

once again, neither of them spoke until they entered the common room. he dismissed himself and told her to stay there. he was going to his dorm to get the book for her.

she stood and waited for him near the largest window in the common room. there was a fair amount of people in there this time. some people waved at her and she fought the urge to sneer at them, instead opting for a polite smile and wave. they were all a bunch of parasites, pretending they were friends with the mysteriously charming new girl. she thought that the awe surrounding her would have worn off by now, but for some reason, people were still enamored with her.

she relished in the attention just as much as she loathed it. she reminded herself that none of them would mourn her death and none of them would visit her grave; and then she hated herself for letting that metric be the standard by which she measured her acquaintances. 

if she died today, few would attend her funeral, but none would mourn her. her upstairs neighbor would be distraught, but sicaria saw the older woman so rarely that she was sure not to notice she was gone after a while. 

it was hypocritical; there was no one alive that she'd mourn either. humans were supposed to form emotional connections with other humans or society in general, but she had none that were significant.

that was the thought that kept her from suicide. she didn't want to live this life, but leaving it without ever getting to live it on her terms was unfathomable. it was so, so selfish, but she didn't want to die knowing that no one would care. she didn't want to be enshrined in history as no one.

if she was going to kill herself, she wanted someone to be sad about it. she needed the guilt of causing someone else pain, or else it would all be for nothing.

being insignificant in everyone's lives was a familiar feeling, but to sicaria's dismay, it never stopped being painful.

she turned her eyes to the window and stared out into the lake, occluding away the thoughts that seemed to constantly pop up, but never led her anywhere. there were both regular and magical creatures in the water, inhabiting the same space. she wondered what the ecosystem was like to be able to maintain such a wide assortment of creatures. she'd studied the magical properties of many creatures, but never any biology or ecology. just standing next to the window was enough to feel the coldness radiating onto her skin.

her eyes did not snap up until lestrange walked up to her, book in hand. she met his cheerful, yet tired smile with one of her own. "here, nott said to give this to you."

"thanks," she remarked, and she raced through her mind quickly. she wanted to get through with rosier and lestranges interrogations as soon as possible. "are you busy later? i was hoping we could study arithmancy a bit later if you're up for it."

he winced slightly but it morphed quickly into an apologetic look. "sorry, i think i'm going to bed a bit early tonight. i was up all night yesterday working on transfiguration." he fabricated this story and she could tell. _liar._

she didn't call him on it, and instead opted to feign trust. "it's fine. maybe tomorrow then?"

lestrange patted her on the shoulder lightly. "definitely. night, edwards." he did not wait for a response before retreating to his dorm. _did all five of them share a dorm? or maybe just the four? where's the head dormitory?_

she glanced down at the book and realized it likely had answers to some of the questions she had.

before she took a look though, she took a moment to think. lestrange was definitely lying about going to bed, but what was he doing instead, then? she stared at the cover of the large book while going over the days events again. how long had nott been following her? how did he find her in the first place?

sicaria decided she would camp out in the common room until midnight to see if what lestrange was doing was just sneaking out. she quickly ran over to her room and grabbed her bag of interrogation materials, just in case. she disillusioned and silenced herself and her belongings before carefully returning to the common room, making sure not to bump into anyone. she chose a secluded corner with a vantage point of the door and sat there. _Hogwarts: A History; Table of Contents..._

two hours passed and the common room began to clear out. she wondered why so many more students didn't stay up later, but remembered that they all had class at 9:30 the next morning.

the book was actually really informative. she didn't go through the whole thing, but read through specific parts that interested her. she found out that the head dormitories were located at the ends of each dorm. this year, since the head boy was a slytherin and the head girl was a ravenclaw, their private dorms were in their respective houses. she also learned about some of the magic that guarded the exterior of the castle from breaches; the magic of the castle defended against those that it thought meant to cause harm to it.

finally, she got to the chapter dumbledore had asked her to look through.

_Chapter 65: Salazar Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets_

_what does this have to do with-_

before she could finish her thought, malfoy walked from the dorm hallway and into the common room. he glanced at the clock for a moment and then continued in his confident stride to and out the dungeon door. his perfect aristocrat posture was still perfectly in place though no one was there to see. perhaps after so many years, it just became second nature.

she glanced at the clock after he left. _11:30_.

sicaria looked down at her book again. she only read a few more paragraphs before someone else entered the room. _slytherins' well known disdain for non-purebloods caused conflict between the founders only a few years-_

nott. same pattern: enter room, look to clock, exit dungeon door. _11:35._

she did not look at the book this time, and instead kept her eyes glancing around the common room. sure enough, another one of them came out.

this time, it was riddle. _11:40_. he did not look at the clock, only at his watch. he looked around the room for a second and she held her breath. without so much as a second glance, he made his way to the door and exited again.

_okay think. they're all leaving together, right? so that means that rosier and lestrange will be out soon. which interrogation is most important? rosier or lestrange? rosier...lestrange...rosier...lestrange..._

she weighed her options in her head. she noticed the pattern of them staggering their exit times, but she felt it was futile, considering she had already figured out their pattern. increments of five minutes.

 _11:45_. rosier walked out of the dorm hallway, and pushed ran his fingers through his blonde hair while looking at the clock. _now or never._ rosier was the winner of this round. if they were all arriving at the same place, she could get rosier now, let lestrange arrive before him, and be done with his interrogation and then rosier would be the last to arrive.

sicaria shoved the book into her back and stood. the silencing and disillusionment charms were still in place, so she slipped out the door right before it had a chance to close after him.

she followed him from a safe distance as he went up flights of stairs and made turns around corners. she checked her watch. _11:47._

he went down a hallway of classrooms and decided it was now or never. she sent a silencing spell at him and then stunned him, watching his body crumple to the ground without a sound. she sighed, thinking about how much of a commonplace sight this was for her.

she levitated his body into a classroom and conjured a few candles to light the room. she set him gently into a chair and poured the potion down his throat. she cast the memory spell and then compulsion spell, but hesitated before rennervating him. she bit her lip in anticipation of what his reaction would be.

she cats the spell and he shot up with a jolt, his milky white eyes quickly traveling to her.

"i knew you were hiding something," he started. the bewildered look on his face showed him trying to make sense of the situation. "but whatever this is definitely wasn't on the shortlist of explanations."

she smiled sheepishly. "sorry, but i have to do this before the time runs out."

"do what-"

"what is your name and age?"

"adonis joshua rosier. 17." his voice snapped to a very tight sounding drawl, similar to the one he used when addressing professors.

"what are your parents and siblings names and ages?"

"evanesca selwyn-rosier, 35. joshua rosier, 47." no siblings.

"how are you related to druella rosier?"

he frowned. "she is my cousin."

"are you pureblood?"

"yes."

"do you have any connection with grindelwald?"

"yes." _fuck_.

"what is the nature of your connection to grindelwald?" she asked in a tight voice. her mind immediately jumped to the worst possible outcome: having to request the arrest of one of her friends. 

_acquaintances,_ she reminded herself, the voice ringing with hostility. 

nonetheless, macusa was brutal in interrogation. part of their calling card was psychological torture; by starting off with small insignificant things, talking in eerie tones and asking off-putting questions, as it lead to higher and higher stakes until you've said something you shouldn't have. it was invasive, how they turned your mind against you. after the first time, sicaria started immediately trying to find a psychological defense for it. 

when her parents died, sicaria was summoned to macusa headquarters. of course, this was all very confusing; she had only ever visited her parents job once, so what did they need her for? her parents were dead and gone, and naïve, sixteen-year-old sicaria thought that this was her chance to finally get to live a normal teenage life, even if it was as an orphan. she sat before a panel of nine wizards who quizzed her for a half-hour about what she knew about her parents work lives. she told the full truth (she should not have; one of the first things they'd taught her was knowing when to lie), and even more about how they primed her (trained her) to be a successful witch (in their eyes, a successful _agent_ ). they then led her to a separate room where they showed her a pensieve the size of a small pond, where the memory of her parents sick version of an oath of office was taking place. _do you, priscilla edwards, swear before this counsel that your blood will serve the magical congress of the united states dutifully and loyally until the contract expires on the 25th of december, 1945?_ her mother and father did not hesitate to sign all three of their lives away with two simple words: _i will._ there was no choice to be made. the contract was signed, and the unbreakable vow was a part of all three of their dna; in their _blood_. every legal, magical, and legislative loophole was sealed shut, leaving her bitterly shackled to her parents rotting corpses. 

"he's been in my house but i have not met him." rosiers voice snapped her head up; she had forgotten she was in the middle of something.

she weighed her words. "are you a grindelwald supporter?"

"no." the exhale she let out at his response was massive. she moved to a new line of questioning. 

"what is your relationship with vinda rosier?"

he grimaced. "she's my fathers sister and i despise her."

"why do you despise vinda rosier?"

"she's a sick, vile woman." sicaria's lip quirked faintly.

"do you know about any of vinda rosiers dealings with grindelwald?"

"i haven't spoken to her since i was old enough to understand the war. the only things i know about her are what's written in the newspaper." as his friend, she was elated he wasn't involved, but the part of her that relies her job was upset he didn't know more. 

sons and daughters should not be made pawns in wars started by mothers and fathers. she was happy adonis got to live free of it; but bitter that her life was still intertwined with it. even after her service was over, she wondered if the universe would ever forgive her, or if it would let her keep rationalizing her actions as necessary. _my life or theirs. i'm not selfish for choosing mine._

"does druella rosier have a closer relationship to vinda rosier than you do?"

"yes."

"do your parents have a connection to grindelwald?"

"yes."

"what is the nature of your parents connection with grindelwald?" the sound of the quill scratching was the only noise aside from their voices. the witch had cast _muffliato_ on the door when they walked in, though she doubted anyone would be going through this hallway at this time of night. 

"they keep him near enough that they are not targets, but they are not part of the fight."

"are you a pureblood supremacist?" she was nervous for his answer.

he struggled against it, but eventually it forced him to speak. "no." he spat the denial like it was painful.

she exhaled with relief. "are you part of a blood purity organization?"

"no." she thought back to what dumbledore said earlier. she flicked her wand, pausing the quill from continuing to write.

"are you part of the knights of walpurgis?" she had two minutes left.

"yes." he fought hard against the magic.

"what are the names of the other members of the knights of walpurgis?"

"tom riddle, abraxas malfoy, thomas nott, adrien lestrange." he put up the same struggle toward answering 

she eyed her time and decided that she had more important matters to think about.

"are you a confidant of tom riddle?"

"yes." his expression changed but his tone did not. 

"did riddle kill his father?" she forced out.

he struggled and groaned. only when he started to twitch did she realize that he wasn't fighting an answer, he just didn't have one. "disregard that." he stilled.

"do you know if riddle killed his father?"

"i don't know."

"do _you_ think riddle killed his parents?"

he fought hard against it before the answer burst out of him "YES!" he dry heaved like he was about to vomit. she felt like she was about to vomit as well. she conjured him a glass of water, but he only held it in his and and did not drink.

"it's water. drink." the compulsions made him act before he could think further of it. 

the time on the hourglass ran out, and she didn't bother asking him any more questions. he was still hyperventilating when he spoke, "he's going to be so angry. he's going to use legilimency on me and he's going to see- he's going to-"

he shuddered. "he's not going to know. you won't be able to remember any of this at all. it's not a memory charm he can break through." she reassured him.

"i'm late. he's going to ask why i was late."

"late for what?"

he sealed his lips, but the effects of the short-term veritaserum had already fizzled out. he seemed to realize this and spoke. "you made me betray my friends. they're going to hate me."

"they won't because you only confirmed something i already knew. it's not your fault, adonis." she reassured him. she willed herself to try to feel bad about her actions, but she couldn't muster it. she had grown way too desensitized after countless interrogations of minors where they ratted out their own parents and siblings. still, she found his loyalty admirable. "if he uses legilimency, he won't be able to see anything, i promise."

"why are you doing this? who _are_ you?"

a lie was on the tip of her tongue, but she felt like she needed to tell someone or else she was going to explode. "i doubt you'll believe me, but i work for the department of magical law enforcement back in america. they sent me here as something of a spy to determine which students here were likely to want to testify against their parents, or students who planned to join grindelwald after graduation."

he only gazed at her for a second. "you're right, that does sound like bullshit."

she only shrugged. "it's true. well i suppose it's time you get going."

rosier stood up and she outright laughed at him. she cast the stunning spell and he went crumbling to the ground. all the materials the brought and conjured (candle, hourglass, veritaserum vial, transcript) floated into her bag as she cast a disillusionment spell over herself. cancelling the compulsion and memory charm on rosier was the easy part, but she needed to make it look like he had never stopped walking. the imperus curse left too noticeable of a trace, so she settled for an animation charm. she waved her wand and his body stood attentively, but his eyes were still closed and his mind was still dormant. 

the witch flicked her wand in the direction of the door and he marched toward it, his stride reminding her of the muggle soldiers marching off to war. once they were both in the hallway, she rennervated him and his eyes snapped open. he wavered on his feet for a moment, and just when she thought he was about to fall, he took off walking in his usual posture down the hallway. 

she turned the opposite direction, and began to make the long trek back to her dorm room.


	15. xiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the spells i create for this story are latin, greek, or french based. anything other than that, i will specify. i've been thinking about including elements of magic from asia and africa, as well as dark magic/creatures

november 1944  
  
  


"where the hell have you been?" riddle's deadly calm voice caught rosier off guard as he walked through the door of the abandoned classroom they used for meetings. his brow furrowed.

"what? i walked-" he stopped after looking around the room and his eyes landed on lestrange. "how'd you get here before me?"

"mate you're the one who's late." lestrange shrugged.

"what? i left the same time i always do. you saw me leave before you."

"enough with the games, rosier," riddle leered. "i don't appreciate the tardiness, and this is the last time i'll ask. where. were. you?"

rosiers eyes looked across his friends faces for any hint of a laugh. fear started to creep up on him. riddle was volatile normally, but he could be downright malevolent when he was angry or thought he was being lied to. "are you all playing a joke on me?"

" _legilimens,_ " riddle wasted no time invading his friends mind. he didn't need to cast the spell to see into his friends mind, but something about knowing what was going to happen a split second before it did made all the difference. it was cruel and cunning, but riddle didn't care about any of that when he was angry. if rosier didn't want to tell him what had happened, he would find out for himself.

he was bitterly disappointed. he looked at rosier directly in the eyes and saw nothing out of the ordinary in his memory. he saw rosier look at the clock, and leave at the exact time he was supposed to. he saw him walk down the hallways and turn corners and arrive in this very room. riddle pulled out of his friends' mind and drew his wand and rosier flinched half way across the room. riddle only rolled his eyes at his friends reaction before casting a curse detection spell over his friend. the only magic he saw active on his body was a small trace of a barely lingering spell that had _something_ to do with his brain. he arched his eyebrows and his friends just stared at him as he worked, not daring to make a sound.

"it's blank." he concluded. his anger clouded by his confusion.

"what?" the other four said in unison.

"it's blank. his memory, it's blank."

rosier raised his brow at his friend. "mate, i remember everything just fine. i know who you all are-"

"no you idiot," he interrupted fiercely. "there's a gap in your memory. a blank spot."

"what like he was obliviated?" malfoy suggested but riddle shook his head, staring at a small table in thought.

"false visions replace memories. obliviation masks them. this though... it's like nothing was even there. it's completely blank. there's no curse signature for a memory charm either."

"what are you talking about? i remember everything. i left the common room at 11:40 and walked the way here." rosier fumbled, not seeming to understand. "i don't understand why it took so long."

"look. _venite videte visionem_." riddle sighed as he cast the projection charm over his friend.

all five of them were then able to see rosier from a third person point of view as a projection before them. they saw rosier leave the common room and the clock said 11:40, they saw him walking down the corridors, and then they saw a bright flash of white light for a few seconds, and then it went back to him stumbling then walking, but almost ten minutes had passed.

"i don't understand," nott finally spoke. nobody seemed to pay attention to him though, they were all lost in their own minds, searching for some kind of explanation.

"whatever. i'll figure it out later." riddle cleared his throat and his demeanor returned to the one he kept firmly in place. "right then. we'll worry about that later. let's get down to business..."

the next half hour was spent with each of the five boys taking their time to address the others, topics ranging from experimental potions, ministry rumors, potential new members, and familial affairs. because of the status of the boys (four of them being pureblood heirs and one being an intelligent, charming orphan), it was not difficult to get people to confide their dirtiest little secrets into the young boys. they together pushed the boundaries of magic, and sought out to create a world that was not afraid to experiment with the natural order. they spent their final year making connections, both foreign and domestic, with people who might be of service in the near and distant future. it was ambitious, and adding members would only add new ideas, but unfortunately for the knights, there was no one left at hogwarts who was intelligent enough, nor daring enough to add anything meaningful to their ranks.

their most pertinent order of business had been a quest; something between a treasure hunt and a suicide mission to rediscover some infamous texts left behind by a deceased wizard. they'd have to go to london over the holidays to finish after they had assessed and done all they could remotely. 

this _had_ been their highest priority. 

until she arrived.

but she was not an option. she was unbelievably talented, but she'd never agree to join them, and riddle would never ask. she was too unpredictable and riddle had no room in his ranks for people he didn't know how to control. 

which was why he needed to understand her. so he could control her.

"alright, last order of business," riddle paced around the floor but his tone was unnaturally steady. to the boys, it almost sounded forced. "edwards. what have we got?"

each boy seemed to be very reluctant to speak. the information they had on her habits was very minimal; she was rather evasive.

lestrange seemed to pluck up the courage to speak first. "well, she's rather hard to trace. she disappears for great lengths of time."

"what? she leaves campus?"

"no, no, not like that," this information seemed feeble to lestrange, but he had almost nothing to go on. was she intentionally covering her tracks? or was she just a reserved person? "i'd be following her, and then she'd turn a corner, and i'd turn a few seconds after and she'd just be gone."

"the disillusionment charms," riddle muttered under his breath. "she was in the fifth floor corridor once, and i saw her removing a disillusionment charm from herself. anything else?"

nott spoke now. "she left another meeting with dumbledore a few hours ago. it didn't last as long as the other ones did; only about 45 minutes. after that, she went to the owlery and sent something to someone named _alessandria goldenberg._ also she's from manhattan, new york." he conveniently left out the part where she had caught him.

"any of you heard the name alessandria goldenberg?" everyone shook their heads. "unfortunate."

"um," malfoy started. "i got a copy of the directory from the ministry and the american ministry of congress or whatever it's called. anyways i found some things on that campbell guy she was talking to. he works for their _director of magical security_ so he kind of bridges the gap between american aurors working here, and british aurors working in america."

"what's that got to do with her?"

abraxas shrugged. "seemed like they knew each other rather well, and you said that she said something about 'treason' and 'breaking international statutes' and it had me thinking. if he was here, did that mean he was escorting an american auror?"

rosiers eyes snapped up. "her parents. what if they aren't actually dead?"

nott and malfoy seemed to consider it, but riddle and lestrange seemed less than convinced. "not to be a downer, but i think that was one of the few truths she's told us. the hatred seemed rather genuine, no?" lestrange finished, and everyone seemed to semi-agree, but still held on to the thought that something about her parents was not the entire truth.

"maybe he knew them when they were alive. dumbledore's always working on international stuff, maybe he's here for him."

"lets not speculate," riddle said through gritted teeth. "when you theorize, you look for facts to prove those theories. we just want facts." he reminded.

it was rosiers turn. "i observed her most of the night of the party. she kind of cycled through a bunch of blokes rather quickly, i lost count."

"what? are you calling her some kind of _nympho_?" lestrange accused, suddenly feeling defensive of the girl they were all double-crossing.

"what? no!" rosier said defensively. he had no room to slut-shame _anyone._ "she didn't seem to entertain them for very long, and no one ever got close enough to touch her."

riddle wasn't satisfied with this information. "did you get close enough to hear what she was discussing with them?"

he shook his head. "no, i couldn't have without alerting her. one thing was odd though, she never sought out anyone, the blokes just kept coming to her."

malfoy snorted very ungentlemanlike. "that's not surprising. d'you know how many times people have asked me if she was single? or how to ask her out? they're all so bloody intimidated by her. for the life of me, i can't see why."

"are you _blind,_ mate?" rosier interjected. "you may not like her, but the woman is gorgeous, and clearly one of the more talented witches at this school. not to mention she's american, which is apparently some kind of fetish now. she's in high demand." nott nodded along.

"so why haven't _you_ made a move then?" lestrange asked jokingly. 

rosier lifted his chin. "i'm allowed to have female friends, mate, i don't like her in that way. plus i doubt there is any reality where she'd reciprocate. why ruin an already fragile friendship for a meaningless shag that she'd never agree to?"

malfoy coughed into his hand, sounding suspiciously like, " _whore._ " rosier narrowed his eyes and sneered back at his friend. 

riddle rolled his jaw at their gossip, but did not interrupt.

in a weird way, the knights took a sick form of pride in being her chosen companions. she had plenty of options, both romantic and friendly, but she had chosen to stick around them. perhaps it was a male thing: feeling superior for earing the presence of a woman who was so sought after. their _friendship_ with her was, of course, innocent in nature, but it didn't change the fact that they felt smug about their newfound ascendancy. their closeness to her was not very widespread knowledge yet, but once it was clear that she ate meals with them every day, there was no doubt in their minds that there would be plenty of jealous stares to go around.

"there's a hogsmeade visit coming soon. how many blokes will pluck up the courage to ask her?" lestrange said, grinning dramatically. "rather, how viscously do you think she'll turn them all down?"

"for a woman, she sure is hell-bent on avoiding attention," nott said, making note of her strange behavior when it came to her popularity. "should we take her with us? to hogsmeade?"

"does she have to go _everywhere_ we do? what about davidson, don't women need their girl time?" malfoy sighed dramatically, slumping his shoulders as he leaned against the desk. rosier rolled his eyes at malfoys statement but cringed at the mention of venus davidson.

"she hates davidson as much as everyone else does. no idea why she refuses to get rid of her." they did know why. sicaria was not too kind to do anything so vindictive without being provoked; she could be malevolent with no reasoning at all. they just assumed she had some reason for keeping venus around.

"stop pretending you don't like having her around, malfoy. i see the way you look at her body-"

"you're mad," malfoy shook his head violently. "absolutely loony. never in a million years." some snickered at his reaction.

"right because your still obsessed with that gryffindor-"

riddle's patience had worn out. "can we get back on topic, please?" he spat. the other four boys immediately straightened up, refocused on their discussion. they knew not to push riddle's patience when his voice dropped to this tone. he eyed them in their silence and then nodded his head only once. "good. now, i've done some diagnostics on the enchantments and they are based on runic and blood magic. i should be able to break the runes in a matter of weeks."

he stopped speaking. he hadn't said anything about the blood magic, so lestrange took that as a cue that he wanted someone else to clue him in. blood magic was a banned subject to be taught. the only books on it were in the restricted section of the library, but riddle could surely find a teacher dense enough to write him a pass.

"blood magic is dna based. it's kind of a mixture of muggle mythology and science crossed with magical signatures of her wand. its something like a contract; the blood being the ink to sign, and the wand is the quill. if there's a blood enchantment on her door, then the only way someone would be able to get in is by using _the casters_ wand to add their blood to the enchantment." lestrange rattled off these facts. his family was very particular about blood purity, so it was only fitting that they used blood wards on their properties to symbolize their believed _superiority._

"so you're saying that i'd have to steal her wand?" riddles stare was fixed on his own wand.

"yes," lestrange answered. "it would probably be best to do it _when_ you've broken through all the runes though. if something goes wrong with the wand and she notices, she'll probably put back all the wards up and more." lestrange made sure to say _when_ and not _if._ he had seen the lengths that riddle would go to to get what he wanted. though sicaria was a powerful, well versed witch, there was no doubt in lestrange's mind that riddle would get through the runes eventually.

"right," riddle said and then paced in thought for a few more seconds. he paused. "is that all?"

they all nodded, not having any more information on their mysterious new companion. they were tired, so everyone was relieved when they were finally dismissed to get some rest.   
  
  


•••  
  
  


the first half of the following day was rather mundane for the entire school. classes were long and dull, and all sicaria could think about was preparing for her hearing the coming weekend. she desperately wanted to get her hands on the files beforehand, but she knew it would be futile to request anything from them. the thoughts occupied her mind throughout charms class as her ever-present disdain for macusa floated to the surface of her brain. they sought to make her job as difficult as possible for her, but relied heavily on her ability to succeed. it was oxymoronic.

things took an interesting turn around lunch time.

outside her door, professor merrythought posted the list of competitors for the duels. sixth and seventh years (the only students sanctioned to duel) were alight with competitiveness, excitement, and nervousness. unsurprisingly, the final duel of their class period was set: _sicaria edwards and tom riddle._ she should have been anxious, but she felt entirely apathetic. her mood swings were starting to cause her headaches, but she couldn't figure out why.

her seemingly impassive reaction did not appease the masses. as she walked the hallways toward the great hall nearing dinnertime, she received a series of sympathetic glances and confused expressions from her classmates. riddle apparently had a reputation for being a sadistic, merciless duelist, and though her classmates were surprised by her skill, they still believed her chance at being victorious was improbable. she struggled not to roll her eyes at the gawkers and their insulting sympathy, choosing instead to continue walking and pretend not to notice the glances.

her bad mood seeped through the gaps in her mind and made her actions apparently look angry. she entered the great hall slightly tardy, seeing that everyone was already there. that was unusual, riddle was usually the last one to arrive at their table. for the past week or so, he had always been about ten minutes late to lunch. she noticed, but didn't bother asking why. not that she cared.

sicaria sat down at her spot on the table. her irritation must have seeped through either her actions or her face, because the table looked at her with a mixture of expressions that she could not place.

"all right there, edwards?" rosier greeted warily. venus looked away from him and toward sicaria, giving her the obligatory pseudo-smile that she always did when greeting her 'friend'. she was especially expressive of her obvious (jealousy? anger?) whenever she talked to rosier. the americans' irritation grew exponentially at the girl. hell, she was the one who even introduced venus to adonis, wasn't she?

"fine," she smiled in spite of her internal monologue. "why wouldn't i be?"

she glanced around the table at all the faces. malfoy was looking determinedly away from the table, like he was nervous to look at her. lestrange stared down at his food. nott looked at her with a mixture of pity and commiseration. rosier gave her an encouraging look, but venus was staring at him. riddle looked directly at her, seemingly searching to find any hint of trepidation or uneasiness. her eyes met his for only a moment before she diverted them immediately.

she dropped her fork down with a clatter. "alright, is anyone going to tell me why you're all acting like there was a mass murder?" they laughed but the word jolted her awake.

_murder._

tomorrow she had to duel someone that she suspected had killed his own family.

_don't think about it. don't be skeptical. don't jump to conclusions, don't think about it._

she tuned back in to their conversation.

"oh don't be arrogant, sicaria," venus said with the air of someone who knew less that what they should have. "we all feel bad about your duel tomorrow. i do hope it will be over quickly, i wouldn't want you to be embarrassed for long."

lestrange choked into his cup at her words, fighting back a laugh. it went unnoticed by venus.

"well how considerate of you," sicaria said, not bothering to hide the resentment in her voice. venus scowled but did not respond.

"she speaks for herself," nott said, and she felt a strong surge of gratitude for the boy.

"yeah," lestrange said, finally calming down. "we're all worried about our individual duels."

abraxas smirked, and she did not miss the mischievous glint in his eyes as he rolled them at his friends. "am i the only one who isn't going to lie to her? everyone thinks that riddle is going to beat you so badly that you'll stop being friends with those three." he jerked his head in the direction of his friends. she laughed at his insinuation.

"as nott said," rosier stared pointedly at malfoy. "he speaks for himself."

she batted her eyelashes. "your lack of faith wounds me. are we not friends, _abraxas_?"

"fear not, ms. edwards," riddle mirrored malfoy's smirk. "your defeat will be quick and _painless._ "

she fought the urge to sneer at his remark. "you seem to be under the impression that i'm afraid of you. trust that no matter who's victorious, i'll make it as long and grueling as i possibly can."

"oh come off it, sicaria," venus drawled. "you can't possibly delude yourself so much as to believe you have a chance at beating him."

she could no longer bite her tongue. she stared directly at venus, her face in the expression of impassive disdain. "davidson, i don't know who in god's name you think you're talking to, but i-"

"um, ms. edwards?" a deep voice called from behind her.

she whirled her head around to look at the japanese boy standing behind her. "hey, sugiyama." she said, changing her face quickly to a grin.

benson sugiyama. her hufflepuff deskmate in arithmancy. he was a smart, kind boy, who hadn't hit on her. it was refreshing.

he nodded politely in recognition to the rest of the table. venus flashed him a dazzling smile, while rosier and nott nodded back. riddle, lestrange, and malfoy did not react.

"may i speak to you? privately?" he asked her. she so badly wanted to say no, but she had to keep up appearances. she nodded and stood, not missing the amused, teasing look abraxas shot her. she scowled at him.

she followed benson to the far corner of the hall, away from other ears, but many, _many,_ pairs of eyes followed the two.

"er, how are you?" benson stalled, rubbing his wrists behind his back. he had a shy smile on his face. sicaria knew he noticed the eyes on the two of them, and wondered if that was why he chose to speak to her in the great hall rather than just outside in the corridor. maybe he wanted people to see. 

her irritation was floating just below the surface. she really didn't want to take it out on him (he was usually pleasant to be around), but he was stalling, and that was something she disliked.

"i'm fine. how are you?"

"i'm fine as well." he said, and he smiled dopily at her. she heard snickers from her table but ignored them.

 _don't snap. don't snap. don't snap._ "did you want to talk about something?" she asked politely, looking up at him. his shy demeanor did not match his tall stature.

he snapped to attention. "right, um, so i've been meaning to ask you for a while," _please don't say it._ "the assignment professor modulus assigned a few days ago is a bit difficult, and i was hoping you'd help me out with it?"

she forced herself not to cringe. benson was such a sweet boy, but she knew he was lying about struggling with arithmancy. he wanted to be alone with her. still, she had to be polite.

"sure, when do you want to work on it?" it was almost insulting to her intelligence to have him lie so blatantly to her face and expect her not to realize.

he looked surprised to see she said yes. "oh! um, how does friday work for you?"

 _terrible._ "works fine for me. see you then, sugiyama!"

he nodded and smiled at her. she walked away from him and her smile dropped her face almost comically quickly.

four of the boys were laughing so hard that they almost had tears in their eyes; even riddle had an amused look on his face. venus was not so entertained.

"let me guess," rosier tried to speak between laughs. "did he confess his love for you?"

"no, no," lestrange interjected before she could answer. "he asked you to hogsmeade, didn't he?"

"shut up," she hissed. "you're making him look like an ass-"

"wait," abraxas jeered. "did he do the 'i secretly fancy you but let's do homework together so i can pretend this is a date' routine?"

"familiar with that one, are you malfoy?" nott said, and they laughed again. she said nothing.

"well?" venus goaded.

she grumbled and out her head in her hands. "malfoywasright."

"oh don't be embarrassed," rosier patted her on the shoulder. "speak up, darling." he was messing with her, but venus seemed to think his affection was genuine.

"malfoy was right."

they whooped with laughter, relishing in her embarrassment. venus grumbled at the attention her friend was getting.

"it's high time one of them asked you. all the boys have been asking about you. frankly i don't really see why. i mean don't get me wrong, your gorgeous, but you aren't _that_ extraordinary." everyone's laughter died as soon as she opened her mouth.

sicaria was fed up, her face contorted into a snarl. she leaned forward almost across the table, but rosier pulled her back.

"that's _enough,_ davidson." he said sternly. sicaria couldn't figure out why venus was picking fights; sicaria was the bridge between venus and adonis. it eventually dawned on her. venus thought that rosier would choose her over sicaria. the thought made her want to laugh. "your rudeness is unbecoming, unnecessary, and nowhere near as passive as you seem to think it is."

malfoy cleared his throat after a few moments of dead silence. "well, uh dinner is over. back to the common room, yeah?"

the walk from the great hall to the common room was rather short. the ache in her head was only increasing. she fell behind the group, and was the second to last to arrive at the common room.

like the phony gentleman he was, riddle grasped her hand to help her through the door, though she didn't need it. he guided her into the door and followed in right behind her.

before she could release herself from his grip, or walk away, he yanked her arm and her shoulder collided with his chest. he didn't move at the impact. she inhaled sharply with irritation.

suddenly, she couldn't feel anything but the slight buzz on her wrist where his hand held her in place. she tried to pull herself away out of instinct, but his grip was firm.

he brushed the hair away from her ear and whispered. "davidson is a moron. stop surrounding yourself with people who are inferior to you."

she prayed that no one in the common room was paying attention to the two of them, but all she could focus on was his touch, his scent, and his words.

he released her and walked over to abraxas who had settled himself on the couch. he didn't look back at her.

she stood there for a moment longer before realizing she looked insane, so she let her eyes rake over the common room.

nott was sitting at a table alone fiddling with chess pieces. she made her way over to him.

an hour or so later, she had him in check with no possible way for him to win. he was an excellent chess player. she's never admit it, but she was incredibly it to have beat him this once, and likely never would again. she stood and prepared to leave the table and the near empty common room was alight with anticipation of the next day.

"you're not going to take my king? but you would have won!" nott said, not understanding.

"yeah, but we all know what's going to happen right? i think that there's more agony in anticipation."

"and you say you aren't a sadist." lestrange called from the floor near a window.

"rook to c8," she said as she shrugged. "checkmate." she watched the rook shatter the glass king into thousands of small shards. with a wave of his wand, all the bits and pieces of glass magically put themselves back together into the original pieces in their correct positions. 

"the first student i've ever lost to." notts voice was laced with incredulity. she was certain she'd never beat him again.

"i intend to make a lot of people lose in the near future." she applauded herself four the double-entendre.

riddle picked up on it. "still think you can best me? don't _delude_ yourself." all the boys turned away, almost meekly. she only then realized that they were afraid to give any real opinion. her eyes glinted. 

"boys," she smiled mischievously. "who do you think will win our duel?"

"i'm dueling that hufflepuff slag tomorrow..." venus started, but no one was listening to her drone on and on about how much she hated other women. in fact, no one seemed to acknowledge she was speaking at all. they all pretended she wasn't there, hoping she'd eventually take the hint. 

rosier coughed slightly but the rest of them looked around aimlessly. riddles head snapped up at their silence, as though he was expecting them to immediately take his side. "well?"

she smirked at his displeasure. she looked directly into his eyes. "well, i best be off then then!"

"you don't want to hear what they say?" venus asked. "what's the point of asking? i already told you i think-"

she shook her head and cut off venus' spiel. "nope. don't care what they think, just wanted to instigate a little bit."

"you little shit-stirrer," lestrange yelled at her retreating form.

"i'm a woman of many talents," she smiled. "get some rest, riddle, you'll need it." the moment she was out of sight, she dropped her cocky demeanor. she had to keep up appearances, or else suspicions would be raised. she rubbed her temple in an attempt to alleviate her headache as she started to break out in sweat. no, this wasn't a stress reaction, but she hoped whatever it was would be gone in time to duel tomorrow.

_the hell is wrong with me?_  
  
  


•••

"he's a bit of an egomaniac. what if he loses? what do you reckon he'll do to her?" rosier said in the common room later that night after riddle had gone to do his rounds. nott snorted at the understatement.

lestrange shrugged. "i'd hope nothing. i'd have more faith that he'd be a gracious loser if not for the fact that he's never lost before."

malfoy nodded. "barely any need to even worry about it. what are the odds she actually beats him? she's good, but is she _that_ good?" 

lestrange weighed his answer. "on sheer power alone, i think he as her beat. riddles smart, but she's crafty and deceptive. i think she could beat him with a good enough strategy, but i don't know what strategy there is that he wouldn't be able to see through."

"i hate to say it, but i hope she loses. i honestly fear what will happen to her if she somehow manages to pull off a win." nott finalized, and they all shared the same sentiment.

tomorrow would be an eventful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> any guesses as to what's making sicaria ill?


	16. xiv.

november 1944  
 _(tw: brief mention of self-harm)_

whatever was wrong with sicaria was worse the next morning. 

she woke up sweating and halfway delirious. her vision was slightly blurred, her mind was racing, and she felt incredibly irritable. she could barely stand to open her eyes without another searing pain in the back of her head. it was dim in her room, but even the minimal light peering through the windows burned her corneas. 

and she was nauseous. very nauseous. 

it took all of her willpower to force herself out of bed and down a strengthening potion. she needed to be in her right mind today, and this was the worst time day on earth to have come down with some sort of mystery illness. 

_could i have been poiso-_

she shook the thought out of her head. no one was that interested in a school duel right?

_right?_

her mind was still racing, and it was hard for her to form a coherent thought. 

she went quickly to her potion stash and downed a calming draught to soothe her muscles and an energy potion to clear her mind. 

once she felt like her consciousness was back in her body, she casted a series of glamour charms to hid the dark circles under her eyes and the paleness in her usually olive skin. she looked like a corpse, and now she looked like a well-disguised corpse. she also cast a cooling charm in hopes that she would stop sweating.

breakfast was long and treacherous. her bad mood could not be concealed by the potions she downed, but she hoped that they'd at least hide the physical effects until after dinner. maybe tomorrow she'd go to the hospital wing. 

"why do you get the prophet, the new york journal, and le parisien tribune?" lestrange asked as the striped black and grey owl dropped the three papers in front of her. 

"i like to know what's happening in the world." she said between small bites of food. she knew she needed to eat, but the nausea kept her appetite at bay. 

rosier's eyes lit up. "you speak french?" _obviously._

"yeah and latin, russian, and spanish." _and greek. maybe i shouldn't have admitted that._

"why on earth-" 

"parents." she responded simply. venus scoffed slightly at the mention of her parents but sicaria pretended not to hear. she gritted her teeth harshly to stop herself from going off on the girl. lestrange looked questioningly between the two but she pretended not to see his gaze. venus had made several sly, snide comments, trying to paint the picture that sicaria was using her parents deaths for sympathy. sicaria let the attacks on her character slide, but she was starting to get fed up with venus' jealousy. 

there was not much time to be irritated with her though; the universe seemed hell-bent on testing her patience today. 

only a few minutes after she sat down, a ravenclaw boy from her potions class came up beside her.

it seemed that sugiyama's actions yesterday seemed to set of a chain of events. the boys who had been after her had stuck to flirting with her in class and when they caught her in the hallway, but once sugiyama had made a public attempt, he opened the floodgates. apparently, it had emboldened everyone to make some sort of move on her. 

"hi, miss edwards," _dear god._

these two words were enough to set off the whole table, regardless of his faux friendly tone. the attention of her friends was now on her. she took a deep breath and turned to her side. 

"hello, belby," travis belby. "do you need something?"

"hi travis!" venus called from across the table, flashing him a gorgeous smile. sicaria hoped so badly that belby would shift his attention to venus, but she had no such luck. 

"er, hi davidson," his attention sat on venus for less than a fraction of a second before he shifted his blue eyes back on to sicaria. she couldn't help but feel a small pang of guilt for venus, but whether that was out of irritation with belby or compassion for her friend was unclear. as much as she despised being near venus, being shrugged off like that had to hurt slightly. "um, anyways, sicaria i wanted to ask you something."

 _well get on with it._ "i'm listening." malfoy had to turn his back to the table to contain himself. 

"well, there's a potions project coming up-"

"edwards," riddle interrupted. he seemed to be pretending that belby wasn't even there and inwardly smirked when her attention turned immediately to him. she raised an eyebrow. he gestured to the new york newspaper still on the table. "do you mind if i read that?"

she furrowed her brow slightly. "have at it." 

she turned back to belby. _right, he's still talking._

he glared at riddle, but riddle's face was completely impassive as he stared back. riddle was challenging him to say something, and sicaria rolled her eyes. _boys._ "right, so there's a potions project coming up where we have to choose a partner, and i wanted to know if you'd like to partner with me."

 _lie lie lie lie lie._ she forced an apologetic look on her face. "i'm sorry, belby, but i already promised lestrange i'd partner with him."

rosier practically had his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing, and malfoy seemed to be looking at lestrange expectantly. he was surprised for a second, but then relaxed as he prepared to cover for her. 

belby's next move really set her off. he turned away from her and looked at lestrange. "is that true, lestrange?"

she scoffed loudly. "are you accusing me of lying to your face, belby? i don't appreciate that insinuation."

he spluttered. "i just- it- well, i wondered if _he_ \- its just he would-"

"oh so you need the _man_ to tell you we're working together? is that it?" sicaria would never succumb to the social standard that told her it wasn't okay to be a woman in charge of her life. 

"well, i mean- _yeah_ , but it isn't-" she'd heard enough.

"have a good day, belby." she turned away from him, not listening to the rest of his stuttering. _sexist bastard._

once he had finally taken the hint to walk away, rosier let his laugh freely. 

"brutal," nott said. "i like it."

"i found it funny that you defended yourself from the insinuation of being a liar, yet he was right to suggest that you _were_ lying." lestrange said. "unless i've forgotten i asked you."

she smiled sheepishly at him. "sorry. guess you're stuck with me now." he only shook his head in amusement. 

"i'm shit at potions. i need all the help i can get." he was being modest.

there were only a few minutes of peace until another approached. 

"oh my dear, edwards," malfoy sang. "here comes another! ooh this one's blonde!"

"do you take delight seeing me in distress, malfoy?"

"i do, and i have no shame in laughing at your suffering." he was being entirely truthful, and his smile was heard in his voice. 

richard mccarthy's steps stalled as he came to a halt beside her. she did not address him, and he cleared his throat. he was trying to command a respect he hadn't earned. 

how _dare_ he? she didn't bother with the pleasantries; his rudeness was immediately off-putting, and she couldn't even be bothered with her half-assed attempt at politeness. "what, mccarthy?"

"sicaria." why was he addressing her so informally? he sounded ridiculous, like he was trying to make his voice deeper than it was.

"can i help you?" her tone was scathing and she did not look at him. she wouldn't spare him a glance.

"you can, actually. come to hogsmeade with me." his cologne was smothering her, making her want to cough. it was so strong that she almost felt her eyes watering. 

she scoffed. whatever his tactic was, it wasn't working at all. "is that a request or a demand?"

"whichever you want it to be, sweetheart." the boys laughed at him, and eyeing sicaria's adverse reaction, laughed even harder. she stabbed at the food on her plate at the term of endearment that he had not earned the right to use.

"something funny, gentleman?" his tone was biting, not seeming to appreciate the people interrupting 

"nothing at all-" rosier started, not bothering to hide the shit eating grin, but malfoy interrupted.

"yeah, mate," he said. "this is bloody entertaining. is this not embarrassing for you? watching you make an arse of yourself, i mean."

"you listen here, malfoy-" mccarthy started angrily. she could see the viciousness swirling in his eyes and decided to cut the festivities short. 

sicaria was growing tired. "look, mccarthy, why don't you just leave and-"

all the laughing seemed to be getting to him, because he suddenly did something that was out of his mind. he reached down to the table and grabbed her by her upper arm hard enough to leave a bruise. "don't you dare speak to-"

he didn't get to finish his sentence. she grabbed him by the wrist and ripped his hand off her arm. rosier was on his feet and took a step toward them menacingly. lestrange was also on his feet, but malfoy was holding his wrist down so he could not point his wand. riddle finally looked up from the newspaper. venus sat bored and nott had one hand under the table, presumably holding his wand. 

as sick as it was, riddle couldn't help but feel smug when she immediately removed his hand. she never reacted that way when it was him touching her. he snapped out of the thought quickly before realizing that he needed to put his head-boy attitude on. 

"how dareyou put your hands on a woman? how _dare_ you?" rosier said through gritted teeth, but mccarthy's anger did not dissipate. rosier took another menacing step toward him, fists clenched at his sides. 

his wrist was still in his grasp and he tried to pull away, but she dug her nails into his arm and hissed through gritted teeth, "if you ever touch me again, i'll curse your hand off so badly that even the healers won't even be able to reattach it. now, leave." she pushed his hand away from her and dropped it, wiping her palm on her skirt.

"let's not play this little game any long-"

"rosier, lestrange, sit down," riddle was standing now as well. "mccarthy, 40 points for putting your hands on her, and detention. now leave, unless you'd like me to get your head of house."

riddles voice rang out, and for the first time, his eyes pierced right into mccarthy's soul.

"who are you to go around demanding things of people, riddle?"

"i'm head boy, am i not? she told you to leave, so leave. i won't repeat myself." she wanted to be grateful, but she was more irritated at the fact that mccarthy had then listened to riddle and not her. "the professors table seems rather interested with all the commotion."

he wasn't lying. dumbledore looked on the verge of interfering while professor slughorn was already standing, waving his finger rapidly in their direction. 

mccarthy acknowledged his defeat. he looked down at her. "we aren't finished here, sicaria."

"that's _edwards_ , to you," lestrange interjected. "and i most certainly do think you're finished."

he turned on his heel and walked away quickly, and the three boys sat back down. malfoy and nott both seemed to be letting out deep breaths. the whole hall seemed to buzz with gossip. apparently, they had caused quite the scene. sicaria again wondered what kind of torture-house of a school just ignores students preparing for a fight. she mumbled a small thanks and was met with grunts of acceptance. turning back to the table, she sighed and caught riddle's eye. she nodded at him once, in a sign of reluctant gratitude, but he did not reciprocate. he only looked back down toward the newspaper. _asshole._

they were all silently fuming for a moment before venus unwisely decided that now was a good time to open her mouth.

"you know, sicaria, if you chase off every man who comes in contact with you, you'll never find a proper husband. god knows they'll eventually stop trying once they realize you aren't as much of a prize as they think you are. you'll end up an old maid. or a prostitute." her nasally soprano voice struck through the air like a broken violin string.

lestrange and nott gaped at her open mouthed. malfoy shot sicaria an aghast look that said _are you really going to let her get away with that?_ riddle's hand was pressed so tightly around his cup that his knuckles were white, but he forced himself not to look up. she thought back to what riddle said to her last night, about surrounding herself with people who were ' _inferior_ ' to her. rosier's eyes flashed and he slammed his fork down with a clatter as he mouthed the word _prostitute._

sicaria, on the other hand, saw red. 

"venus, what the hell is wrong with you?" her tone was poisonous as she delved into venus' mind to pull out every little insecurity she could use against her. she sifted through venus' thoughts and memories trying to find anything she could throw back at her. she should have bit her tongue, but no longer did she want to. "is it you i should take advice from? you who's never had a relationship without first getting a glimpse into his family tree? you who's never had any _real_ friends because no one can stand to listen to you complain about things that _don't matter_? you who's only ambition is to find a rich enough man to drain his bank account? venus, you are a pathetic gossip, an intolerable woman, and an _unlovable_ _bitch_ , and i pity you for it."

venus stared for a moment, opening and closing her mouth like a fish before she managed to finally find words. "how _dare_ you speak to me that way?"

"oh for the love of god, let me put and end to this," malfoy drawled. "davidson, no one wants you at this table, so how about you run along back to your little clique that you were with before edwards got here, yeah? we all know you run back and tell them everything we say either way."

"fine," she snapped. she stood angrily on the spot, looking at everyone's faces for any inclination that malfoy was speaking the truth, but no one so much as moved. she turned to sicaria to get the final word. "you know what they say about women with only male friends, sicaria." she hissed, and with that she stomped off away from the table. 

"forgive me for chasing off your girlfriend, rosier." sicaria said once venus was a safe distance away. 

"we only tolerated her because she was your friend."

she sighed and rubbed her temple. "i shouldn't have said that to her."

"why not? it was true." malfoy shrugged. 

"maybe, but now i don't have any female friends. she was right with what she said about women with male friends." her tone was scathingly bitter. she would have to make a real effort now. perhaps the ravenclaw girl who sat in front of her in transfiguration. _clearwater, right? or maybe the head girl. she was always nice. i think her name was katherine._

"i never took you as someone who was concerned with how other people viewed you." notts words rang through the air, accompanied by a stunned silence. 

"you're right." she confessed. she was almost too stunned to respond with anything else. she cleared her throat and glanced down at her watch. "its almost time for class, we should get going."

•••

"it's alright to be nervous, edwards. riddle's an excellent duelist." lestrange whispered to her as they stood in the middle of professor merrythought's classroom. all the desks, tables, and chairs had been removed from the room. "i'm sure you'll do greatly."

after breakfast, she had gone up to her dormitory to take another strengthening potion and calming draught. she almost felt like her normal self, except her small headache and the nausea.

"i'm not nervous," _lie._

"perhaps you should be," riddle whispered into her ear from behind her. she flinched, not realizing he was behind her. he let out a short exhale resembling a laugh at her movement.

"stop fucking sneaking up on me. it's creepy." she said over her shoulder. 

he stepped away from her and toward malfoy. "did you take that potion yet?" she barely heard malfoy ask, and saw riddle nod. _don't think about it. don't let your emotions in the way. don't be paranoid._ she willed herself to be completely blank.

in truth, she was terrified, but she couldn't pinpoint why. this form of anxiety was a new sensation to her. she needed to distract herself. she zeroed in on professor merrythought's explanation of the rules. apparently, these duels were anticipated by students as well as professors, because headmaster dippet and professors dumbledore, silva, modulus, and slughorn had all come to watch. 

"remember this is an _exhibition match._ same rules as always. you may not use anything that could cause a permanent affliction. you are to use nothing more dangerous than a tier 4 curse or hex." _a what?_

she raised her hand and merrythought nodded at her to speak. "i'm afraid i don't understand, professor. tier 4?"

merrythought's eyes flashed with understanding. this was a british categorization system, one that she had never heard of before. she looked to dumbledore for help. 

he stepped forward and spoke. "ms. edwards, that would be _all_ spells within class 3 non-lethals with the addition of mental incapacitation spells, but removal of any stasis, plegia, or irreversible paralysis spells." she nodded, remembering that classification of spells.

there was dark magic in class 3. _interesting._

watching the other duels, she went over her strategy for riddle one more time. from the limited knowledge she had about him, she understood that he was very arrogant. all she had to do was lure him into a false sense that he was winning, but she had to make it look convincing that she was dueling well enough to look like it was her full effort. 

the entire class period only left her suspense to grow. at one point, while lestrange was dueling a hufflepuff, riddle came and stood beside her. 

"are you still confident in your ability to best me?"

she did not take her eyes off the duel. "very."

"then perhaps you wouldn't mind placing a wager on it."

her eyes darted over to him, but he was not looking at her. "what are you suggesting?"

his voice was strangely much less expressive than it normally was. usually, when he spoke, there was barely any inflection, but his voice now was completely bare of any tone at all. 

"if i win, you'll agree to tell me how you _actually_ were trained, and what really happened to your family. if you win, you can set the terms of what you want." he proposed and she rolled her eyes. of course he had somehow surmised that she lied about her parents (not that it was a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth) and thought he was entitled to know?

even if she wanted to tell him (which she didn't), she couldn't. so she woudn't.

she let out a sharp exhale. "no."

"i thought you said you were entirely confident?" she did not have the arrogance that he assumed she would. she was too smart to have an ego. 

she turned her eyes to him again. "do you take me for a fool? you aren't going to manipulate me into making a bet with you, riddle. this was an insultingly feeble attempt." lestrange had just won his duel, and the pair of them clapped along with the rest of the class. he left the front of the room and headed over to console rosier, who had lost only a few minutes earlier.

he only shrugged slightly, still not looking at her. "suit yourself. be forewarned that i have means of getting what i want, edwards. i'll make you an offer that i don't think you have the will to refuse." what does _that_ mean?

"are you threatening me?"

"of course i'm not threatening _you_. good luck, edwards." he finally looked at her, but he was strangely unexpressive. the rage that was usually behind his eyes was gone, replaced only with emptiness. she didn't know whether to be relieved or more nervous. _he's only messing with you. don't be so easily manipulated._

he walked away from her, and only now did the nerves of the duel kick in, but she had to remind herself to be rational. he couldn't do anything to her, especially not in front of all these students and teachers. that thought was the only thing keeping her sane. still, she desperately wanted to win.

she also couldn't fathom the fact that she was dueling against someone who could kill her. 

she had dueled murderers before; several times, actually. once, macusa had sent her (as _bait_ )to deal with a serial predator who murdered his victims when he was finished. when she dueled him, she dueled not with fear, but with the inspiration that if she lost, she would be assaulted and then murdered. that thought lit a fire under her ass, and forced her to fight and suppress her fear simultaneously.

the issue though, was that she could not duel with that fervor. she could not duel against him in a classroom, knowing he was _likely_ capable of murdering her. she could not use the spells and tactics that she would in the field. instead she had to use class-fucking-3 non-lethals against a wizard who was more powerful than her, _and_ capable of murder. 

_don't be stupid, he can't kill you in front of all these people._ she drew the rune for calmness into her palm using the tip of her wand and a severing charm. it drew blood. she felt the sensation rush down her spine and through her fingertips. 

she banished the blood from her hand, but left the small wound open and clapped as a ravenclaw girl beat a gryffindor boy. he shook her hand in defeat. 

"our last duel," professor merrythought proclaimed, clapping her hands together happily. dumbledore gave her a slight encouraging nod. "mr. riddle, ms. edwards, come on up."

she blanked her face and made toward the front of the room. she turned her body to face him about 15 feet away from her. she met his eyes. he stared back at her unflinchingly. 

they bowed to each other and then took their stances, wands pointed directly at each other. professor slughorn looked as though he was about to burst with excitement; but no one saw it. some students were smart enough to put up shield charms over themselves. 

her eyes never left his. "begin."

the duel was entirely non-verbal. 

the second the cue to start left merrythought's lips, riddle sent his first spell toward her. it was a dark blue sphere that hurtled toward her. she redirected it into the floor and sent a disarming spell at her that he easily deflected. he crafted a sphere of bright white flames and it extended toward her, which she countered with a simple water spell. 

the next few spells were in the same pattern; a strong spell and then a suitable defense, all happening so rapidly that it was hard for an onlooker to keep up. 

while casting, he started to pick apart her dueling style. he noticed that she was a very mobile duelist, sometimes removing magic from the equation entirely and physically dodging them. he needed to remove that aspect. 

he cast a quick, weak stunner to distract her for a moment, before immediately pointing his wand to the floor. vines shot up from the ground and slithered up around her calves like snakes. 

all she had in defensive terms now was shield charms of varying power and deflection spells. he had to remember to cast only things that could break through weaker shields. 

she foolishly looked down at her feet to survey the damage and barely ducked in time to miss most of the purple spell that resembled a herd of needles pass her. some of them grazed the side of her face and she felt a slight stinging sensation and could feel drops of blood pouring from her cheek. 

_don't get angry, don't duel upset._

she cast a severing charm on the vines at her feet, but it only cut through the top layer, and a few more grew back in it's place. she quickly readjusted herself in an upright position and made a slashing motion with her wand, the same as the severing charm. he couldn't get out of the way in time, and it cut through the sleeve of his shirt and down his outer forearm. blood dripped slowly out of the gash. 

she was only mildly aware of the gasps of the crowd, choosing instead to block out everything outside the duel. 

_don't panic, calm down, play defense until you can get the vines off._

she stared at his face as she cast three spells in rapid succession. an impediment jinx, a stunning spell, and a mirroring curse (meant to confuse, it made the victim see seven copies of the caster in each direction). all were easy to block, but the power behind each each one meant that they would each require a separate shield. she ducked down again to asses the vines situation. her spells bought her a few seconds to cast _finite_ and the vines started to slowly retreat. riddle finished quickly with the three spells she sent and cast a curse at her. she made a circular motion in the air with her left hand and it cast a wandless shield spell. it was the most powerful she could think of. 

she was wildly confused. it seemed like he was holding back. was he trying to lure her into a false sense of security? or was he losing intentionally? either way, he was not giving his best effort, and she was still unable to gain the advantage.

as she cast speeding charms on the vines to get them to retreat faster, she could feel the spells beating down on her shield, wearing it down. the sensation of them slithering down her legs made her shiver. _c'mon, hurry up._ the spells were beating down on her, and she could feel the magical shield starting to crumble.

finally, the last of the vines retreated into the floor, and she looked up just in time to see the spell that destroyed the last of her shield. the spell was red, and it felt like a small bomb blast, so strong that it knocked her backward several feet, hitting her head on the floor. her wand still in hand, she could think of nothing but a shield charm as she sat up and tried to collect herself. her skull vibrated, but there was no time to dwell on the pain. 

her deflections and shields were not enough. between defenses, she pulled pieces of the ground away from beneath his feet, making him stumble. he came back to his senses and whirled his wand in an 's' shape, and a black curse in the shape of a snake came toward her, aimed right at her chest. 

this was _dark magic._ she didn't even want to guess what the curse did.

a shield charm wouldn't work on this, she knew, so she did the only thing she could. she used the strongest laceration spell she could and crossed her arms in an 'x' shape as it made contact with her chest. the curse snake split into four directions when it made contact and broke. a green light emitted from the fragments of the spell, and the power of it shattered the windows of the classroom. 

it seemed like the professors were on the verge of stepping in. dippet and slughorn looked toward dumbledore, while dumbledore looked at professor merrythought. merrythought twiddled her wand between her fingers, darting quickly between her students, while silva's eyes were trained on sicaria throughout the entire duel, a dazed gleam in her eye.

while he was distracted (only for a split second) by the glass, she cast a vacuum spell that pulled all the air out of his lungs. she only had about four seconds until he would recover. 

she used her wandless hand and her right hand to levitate the shards of glass off the floor and rushed them in riddles direction. he had recovered from the lack of oxygen, and was quick to cast a shield charm, but it was futile. 

she wasn't trying to hit him. 

with the glass, she molded the shattered shards around his shield charm, surrounding him in a glass dome. 

she had a window of time where she needed to hit the glass. it needed to be the split second between him dropping his shield and attempting to break through the glass. 

he dropped the shield, but she had already sent the spell, making contact at the perfect time. _intus ad extra_. allows her to cast spells in, but not him to cast spells out.

he cast the reductor curse in an attempt to break the glass, but the second it made contact, the spell dispersed into the glass, causing it to glow a faint red. he cast another, and again and again. none worked. 

she couldn't believe her luck.

" _expelliarmus,"_ she whispered, and it soared through the dome easily. the wand fell out of his hand and pressed up against the glass, trying to break through. " _finite,_ " the spell on the dome was gone. the whole room gasped and clapped, and she wiped the collected blood of her cheek, wincing as it stung.

" _evanesco,_ " she vanished the glass, and the wand soared into her hand. 

she won.


	17. xv

november 1944

the rest of the day could _not_ have been worse.

sicaria could take no pleasure in her win; riddle had failed to give her a proper angry reaction (opting only to take his wand back, not saying a word to her, and not an ounce of the usual rage stirring behind his eyes) and her friends were walking on eggshells around her, like they were afraid this would be the last time they ever saw her. 

something was... weird.

as usual, riddle was late to dinner, but this time she couldn't help but feel relieved. she didn't particularly want to see him, especially since the boys seemed to be acting like the entire defense against the dark arts class never happened. 

her nausea was returning, and her appetite was still gone. in the halls, several people had taken to congratulating her, using it as the perfect opportunity to hit on her. the reminder made her anxious for being in the great hall; she was a sitting duck. not wanting to give anyone else the chance to accost her, she stood. 

"where are you off to?" nott inquired, all four boys looking up at her apprehensively. 

"library," that was just the first place that came to her mind, but she decided she could use a bit of time in there. anything to get away from these four, who were acting like she would drop dead at any moment. she didn't bother asking what was wrong. _they're waiting on riddle to be angry at me for beating him._ "not really hungry. i'll see you all later."

they watched her walk away and then looked to each other questioningly. 

"where is he?" rosier asked to malfoy, but he only shrugged. none of them had seen him since the last class period ended. 

"at the end of ancient runes, he started acting kind of weird," lestrange said, moving his food around his plate. "i think the potion was starting to wear off."

nott sighed and put his hands in his head. "i was hoping it would last longer. i assume that means he'll want us to go through with the plan tonight then?"

"probably."

"it's not going to _work._ " nott asserted. "we've known her for a month, why would she-"

"can't you try to talk him out of it?" lestrange grumbled, snapping his head toward malfoy. "it's reckless, even by his standards."

"i tried this morning, before he even took the potion, but he thinks it'll work," malfoy said. rosier tapped his foot on the ground in anticipation. 

out of the corner of their eyes, they saw riddle storm into the great hall. it was as though he had done a complete 180 of his behavior earlier. while this morning he was calm and unresponsive, he was now seething, the anger rolling off him in his steps.

"where is she?" he demanded, not sitting down with his friends. 

all of them gaped at him, hesitant to speak. nott finally did. "mate, none of us think this is a-"

"i didn't ask what any of you thought. i asked where she was." he hissed, eyes glinting red. 

lestrange spoke up this time. "can you listen to us this once? this isn't like you, riddle, this plan you've got is irrational."

his eyes flashed, the redness gleaming. "so you're backing out then? what happened to 'we're brothers in this life and the next'?" riddle said. it was taking everything in his power not to curse his friends where they sat. 

they all recognized the manipulation, but they knew it was true. they'd do anything for each other. riddle for them, and them for riddle. the problem was that riddle would refuse to see that he could be wrong about things, and his friend worried that his ambition and hubris would be his demise. 

nonetheless, they were still brothers. in this life and the next. 

no matter how irrational, they'd do anything for each other. lie for each other, die for each other, kill for each other. 

malfoy stood. "no, i'm not backing out. but if this goes wrong-"

"and it will," rosier said, also standing from the table. 

"-you'll have to _beg_ for my forgiveness." malfoy finished. "she's in the library."

nott looked like he wanted to protest, but riddle had already walked away, expecting them to follow. 

and they did. 

they would always follow tom riddle. 

•••

sicaria was still in the library an hour later. the place was desolate; while it usually had a few people around, it seemed like no one was in the library at this hour. 

"edwards!" a voice called out, breaking her focus from her book on magical sanctions. the tone of voice jolted her, and she was not one to be easily startled.

"what?" she looked up and saw all five boys walking down the aisle toward her. her eyes first landed on riddle; he was in front. "why are your eyes red?"

this was her first inclination that something was not right. her eyes darted across all of them quickly, and made several observations. for one, riddle's demeanor was entirely different than it was this morning. next, the four boys walking behind him were uncharacteristically silent; both vocally and in body language. they walked almost _timidly_ behind him, faces blank and void of any emotion. her eyes narrowed.

"which one of them is your favorite?" riddle demanded. she continued to gaze at her friends, but none of them would meet her eyes. 

"what?" she tried to think but she couldn't think of anything that would prompt a question like this.

"rosier, nott, malfoy, or lestrange. which one's your favorite?"

_what is most important to you now that your family is dead?_

_my friends, i guess._

"why?" _something isn't right._

"can you just answer the damned question?" he scolded angrily. she saw rosier shake his head the smallest he could. 

"well definitely not now that you're making demands." she ordered her mind not to race and jump to conclusions, but her instincts started to kick in. the potions had already begun wearing off, and her hands were already shaking from the mystery illness. her fingers twitched for her wand.

he turned to the group. "last chance to save your own asses. tell her to choose." _something is wrong._ the threat felt almost insincere, but her heart was starting to beat faster, and her brain was starting to scatter again. this whole thing felt practiced, almost theatrical. _calm down, remember your training. stay calm in hostile situations._

"what the hell is going-" she started, but he cut her off. 

"fine. i admire your solidarity." he said toward them.

she stood up. "will one of you tell me-"

"sicaria, please. if you only listen to me once in your life, stop talking." lestrange said, calmly. his face had an expression she could not read, but his eyes were oddly blank. she stopped talking. he almost never referred to her by first name.

her eyes traced over them. _blank, blank, blank, blank, outrage._

riddle cast a _muffliato_ charm around the six of them. "what are you-"

_something is wrong._

"edwards, this is your _last_ chance. tell me what i asked of you, or-"

"or what?" she narrowed her eyes. was this his plan? to have all of them attack her? in a _library_? "threatening me will get you nowhere."

he shrugged. and lifted his wand, she instinctually grasped for hers, but he didn't point it at her. _something is wrong._

instead, he pointed it to lestrange. suddenly, he dropped to his knees and cried out, writhing on the ground. 

_what is most important to you now that your family is dead?_

_my friends, i guess._

the cruciatus curse.

her face drained of color, but her voice remained stable. "drop the spell."

"no." he said simply. she drew her hand to her wand and barely got her fingers around it before someone disarmed her. before she would even think about it, rosier casted _ad_ _baculum magicum_ , disrupting the connection, incapacitating her ability to use magic without her wand. she didn't have time to be mad at rosier, she was still struggling to form a complete thought. the combination of screams, hostility, powerlessness, and her mystery illness were hitting her like a ton of bricks as her head started to throb.

_something is wrong._

she thought as hard as she could about the hostage negotiation techniques she had learned, but lestranges screams were piercing through her resolve. _don't be angry. don't act out. stay calm. stay impassive._

"riddle. stop the spell." she said, her voice portraying a calmness she did not feel. _be blank. no emotion._ "i can't tell you what you want without lying, but we can come up with some sort of compromise."

he had no intention of compromising. "beg me." he commanded, pointing his wand at lestranges convulsing body, but eyes directly on her. her pride would have to step aside.

"drop the spell, _please_." she said obediently, and he smiled, the smile of something demonic. 

"no." he just wanted to see her obey him. one day, he'd be able to have his undivided attention on her obeying him, but right now, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

he left the spell on lestrange for a few more moments, reading her eyes carefully before dropping it. "no? fine, lets try the next one then." 

lestrange was hyperventilating on the floor, and he looked up at her. "i'm sorry." she whispered, but her face showed nothing apologetic. _pain management for post-torture trauma victims: 1. check for internal injury. 2. administer post-traumatic calming spell or potion if victim is hysterical..._

_be blank. no emotion._

malfoy was next, his screams were exceptionally intrusive. he didn't twitch as much as lestrange did though. when he stood, he refused to meet her eyes. she muttered an _i'm sorry_ to each of them once they got up from the floor. 

nott and rosier both took their turns, but she did not so much as flinch. she stared directly into the red eyes of tom riddle the entire time, watching him grow angrier and angrier as she did not surrender. her lack of reaction to him enraged him far more than his words ever could.

why were his friends not stopping him? _something is wrong._

rosier's eyes began to roll back in his head, and she fought hard to bite her tongue. if she told him what he wanted to know, they'd all be obliviated (or worse), and that was worse than enduring the cruciatus for a few minutes. she let this thought console her as she heard her friends writhe in agony, but her eyes never left riddles piercing gaze. eventually, he stopped, and she still made no move.

_what is most important to you now that your family is dead?_

_my friends, i guess._

"you're cold hearted. i expected you to concede." he said and she only stared at him. "i respect your resolve."

"you're sick." she spat. _sadist._

"and you continue to facilitate your friends' pain." her eyes glanced over them. _something is very wrong._

none of the symptoms from the cruciatus seemed to be present. no pallor, no trembling, no bloodshot eyes. artificial sways, refusing to look at her. did they know what was going to happen? _something is very wrong._

" _you_ inflicted it. they are your friends. and for the life of me i can't see why."

"doesn't matter why they-"

she interrupted. "and you pathetic excuses for wizards let a _teenager_ on a power trip tell you what to do? you let him torture you for what? information that concerns none of you?" she directed at them, but none responded. the blankness in her face juxtaposed to the mixture of emotions and racing thoughts going on throughout her body was making her feel dizzy. 

or perhaps that was the illness.

"they do it out of a sense of loyalty, edwards, something you seem to lack." he said through gritted teeth, and his red eyes seemed to glow, but perhaps that was just sicaria's frantic mind playing tricks on her.

" _don't_ talk to me about loyalty." she demanded. _no, no, no, be blank. stop letting him manipulate you. no emotion._ "when have i ever given the impression that i am loyal to any of you?" he shrugged and tossed her wand back to her. _foolish boy._

"we'd best be going, try again tomorrow." before he could even turn around. "i'm sure you'll break eventually."

the dam holding her self control back burst.

she cast a slicing hex with her wand. he was waiting for that; he could claim self defense now. the anger with which the spell was casted was evident in the length of the cut. one long diagonal slice across his chest. _stop. stop. stop._ he smiled at her. he got her to react.

he had finally broken her. he had unleased the version of her that he spent time chipping away at. he looked at her face and saw no more deception; both her eyes and her body showed how openly she loathed him. the sight of emotion on her face was intoxicating, but it could not eclipse his rage at the fact that she had dared to attack him. 

_where's madam glinda? why is the librarian not paying any attention? something is wrong._

"interested in a rematch, i see. do not fight, but don't let her kill me, yeah?" he addressed his friends, who all looked strangely apathetic but nodded. the blood was starting to seep into his white shirt. _don't be a fool, sicaria. you are not supposed to duel while angry._

"why do you care so much?" something inside her was making it harder than usual to suppress her impulses. it was much harder to reseal all her emotions and thoughts after they'd already escaped, than it was to keep them closed in. _something is very wrong._

"you're my little puzzle," he said, removing his robes and pointing his wand at her. "but some of the pieces don't quite fit. it'll be a challenge, but i _will_ find where the missing pieces go."

this duel was not at all comparable to the one earlier in the day. there was no grace, no strategy, no _limitations,_ no _witnesses._ it was sloppy; both of them dueling passionately rather than strategically. she had gotten hit by some of his more painful spells, which only added to the many things running circles around her brain as she tried to focus on her anger. he hit her with something that made her cough blood.

_calm yourself. you can't win angry._

but she didn't want to win. she wanted to hurt him. 

_you aren't a sadist. don't lose yourself._

riddle was more powerful than her, but she was a better duelist. even when she had sloppy spellwork and no coherent strategy, she still had a sort of instinctual algorithm running through her mind, changing the tempo of the duel, and making him react. she was on the offense now.

he sent an unrecognizable curse at her, which she quickly deflected back to him. while he was preoccupied with diffusing the spell, she used her wandless hand to cast an enchantment that yanked his arm backward, he groaned. she sliced her wand through the air again, and a gash appeared just below his collarbone. the slit was deep enough to leave a faint scar. she dropped the spell holding his arm in place, and (as she predicted) he immediately brought his hand back to the front. in the small moment before he had time to cast anything, she used the same severing charm on the back of his hand, that made him jolt enough to fumble his wand. she disarmed him. 

those were cursed charms she used to cut him. the blood that left him was black.

she didn't stop. 

he had no wand in hand, smiling sadistically as she started walking toward him. he had done part of what he set out to do; find her limit. he pushed and pushed, and he awakened an evil in her that she had fought hard to suppress. he got her to drop her façade of perfection, after she had done that to him in only a matter of days. he got her to be angry, to _feel_ something, without the influence of drugs. 

_the drugs._ she couldn't think about that right now, anger was clouding her better judgement. it was too late though, the thought of it was already added to the haystack of things jumbling her thoughts. 

if she was around riddle every day, she didn't think she'd need cocaine ever again. he did things to her that no other person had done before. he pulled her in every single direction at once, making her act irrationally even when she knew she should be doing better. she knew she was making the wrong choices, that she was letting him win every time she hurt him, but she didn't care. he made her feel like she was high. 

he stood confidently as she walked toward him, and that irritated her. she was less than ten feet away when she stuck her wandless hand out and casted some sort of spell that pushed him to the ground. she would have done it with her hand, but she did not want to touch him. the last thing she wanted right now what to feel his skin on hers. 

she stood over him and pointed her wand between his eyes. the cruciatus curse was on the tip of her tongue. he seemed to realize this. 

"do it." he hissed. he was provoking her. his red eyes seeped into hers, bringing her back to reality. her headache seared; a mixture of her illness and the effects of using magic that she had to dig deep into her soul to perform. _crucio_ on him would do more damage to her soul than it would to his body, no matter how badly she wanted to make him feel that same pain. "you know the spell."

"no," she said. she could come up with something _much_ more painful.

"weak." he retorted. she sneered at him sinisterly.

"yeah? _rursusque percipit pessimi_." riddles eyes rolled back and he groaned.

her soul burned with the power it required for her to pull out such a dark spell. it felt like the universe was squeezing her heart out of her body, but she did not lift the spell. 

the spell was supposed to make him relive the worst memory of his life. in dementor attacks, they prey on emotion, so the victim of a dementor would feel what they felt during their worst moment. this spell made him relive it, walking in the shoes of his past self. she did not want to know what he saw. 

he twitched, but made no more noise. "is... is he dying?" rosier asked.

"im not going to kill him on school property with four people watching." she said simply. when he spoke to her, she felt her anger being redirected, now thinking about how the four behind her had let the boy at her feet torture them in front of her.

only after he began clawing at his eyes did she lift the spell. he rolled over on the ground and retched. he watched her cast healing spells on all the cuts and bruises she left on his body, and countered all the dark magic she'd used on him. blood was still seeping out of the corner of her mouth. her occlumency barriers were starting to rebuild themselves as she tried to shut her anger away. 

she looked down directly in his eyes as he was dry heaving. _"resonantia obliviate,_ " she casted in a circle around them, hitting rosier, nott, lestrange, and malfoy. they weren't quick enough to try to deflect, and even if they had, she'd disarm them and do it again. she erased the memory of the last part of her duel with riddle. 

it took a few seconds to take effect, and once they were finally all lucid enough to understand her, she spoke, the calm resolve returning. they had seen entirely too much of the part of herself she hid so well. "they won't remember what i did to you. that'll be our little secret. as for the little stunt you just pulled, i believe it in your best interest to have your _knights_ fight with you next time, because if you ever try it again, i promise to do _much_ worse."

his eyes were blood red, boring into her, his face contorted with ire. she did not flinch, only leaned away from his face and turned to walk away. she made a flinging motion with her hand, and nott, rosier, lestrange, and malfoy's wands dropped from their hands as if it burned them. _cowards._

she waved her wand over the four of them, casting a diagnostic to make sure there was no internal bleeding. she ignored how they cowered and fumbled for their wands when she turned hers on them. 

_something was very wrong._ all four of their diagnostics showed the same thing. no internal bleeding, no elevated heartrate, no high blood pressure, no bloodshot eyes. it was as if they were completely normal. their nervous systems had no abnormal activity either. she did a spell diagnostic and saw traces of dark magic pouring off of them, but she couldn't comprehend why there was no physical effects. _think about it later._ "go outside in the cold or take a cold shower for the aftershocks. if there are tremors, take a dreamless sleep potion and try to diffuse any leftover tension." she mumbled to them. usually, she'd do it herself, but she didn't want to be in anyone's presence any longer. 

"get a calming draught from the hospital wing or you'll have a seizure." she called over her shoulder at riddle, walking away from the group of boys huddled together in a library aisle. riddle couldn't help but try to understand her moral compass. she would watch her friends be tortured, and then put him through psychological torture, but then spare him the embarrassment of seeming weak in front of his friends, and telling him how to heal himself? if she was one thing, it was confusing.

"riddle, do you-" one of them started. he was still too disoriented to tell which.

"shut up. where's my wand?" he rasped, redirecting the anger that had resurfaced from his delirious state. he suppressed a groan when he sat up and leaned against the bookshelf for stability. he would never look weak like this in front of his friends, but his body would not be able to stand anything more than this.

"er- its in your hand." _its either malfoy of rosier._

he laid on the shelf for only a moment longer before standing. he stumbled slightly, but caught his balance. "meeting tomorrow. midnight." he bit out before turning away from his friends and walked away as fast as his still weak legs would take him. 

she told him to get a calming draught or he'd have a seizure. _fuck you._

right now, he felt nothing short of murderous, and he needed to get away from them before he made a grave mistake in his hostility. they'd never forgive him (he didn't want to admit it, but he'd never forgive himself) if he lashed out and permanently injured one of his friends. 

he walked out of the library, _rennervating_ the stunned librarian as he went.

riddle stomped out of the castle, completely unaware (or uncaring) of the other students in the hallway watching him. he headed across the grounds. 

_the forbidden forest._

he needed to find something to take his anger out on.

the rest of the boys were still in the library, covering up the scene of the crime. they worked on banishing bloodstains and restacking the books left on the floor by their two friends. 

"she's never going to forgive us. or him." rosier said, not facing his friends as he spoke. "i knew this would go wrong." he slammed his fist on a table as he bit out the last sentence.

lestrange did not speak, opting only to kick the leg of a table in anger. 

"should..." malfoy started. "should we tell her?"

nott shook his head. "he'll use legilimency to find out who told. she's smart enough, i'm sure she'll figure it out when he calms down."

lestrange shook his head bitterly, staring at the floor. "all the bullshit i do for him, and i still owe him my life."

the sentiment was shared throughout all of the knights. 

_knights._

"did you catch what she said at the end? she called us _knights_?" rosier paced around the floor at the end of the aisle. "do you think she knows?"

"how could she?" nott asked, but his mind was still thinking about the implications of telling her what riddle had actually done. perhaps she would be so angry that she'd avoid them.

"i'm sure it was just a figure of speech," malfoy said, but his tone was more hopeful than confident.

"yeah, cause she's so full of _coincidences,_ " rosier said scathingly. 

riddle was not wrong when he said that she was a puzzle. 

and she was becoming increasingly difficult to solve.


	18. xvi

november 1944

the following days were torture. physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

no matter how much her body had ached for it, she did not get even a wink of sleep that night. she was too busy thinking about how every friendship she had built had been destroyed in a matter of minutes. she took more potions so that her hands would stop shaking. 

_you need to go to the hospital wing._

she sent a reductor curse at her closet, blasting it to pieces in anger. _i hate macusa, this is all their faults._

sicaria sat in the bay window of her room, looking out into the freezing lake. she thought long and hard about how the events of tonight and how they would shape her future. 

she laughed scathingly at herself. _her future._ this was her own damn fault for getting attached to people who would forget about her in a matter of months once macusa pulled her out. she couldn't let herself have any more emotional liabilities. she had to protect them, and to protect them, she had to protect herself. it would have been better if they never met. 

the decision not to tell dumbledore any of this was a quick and easy one. she had no idea how he would react, and she realized quickly that she didn't want to know. as much as she loathed riddle, snitching on him was not the revenge she wanted. 

_you don't need revenge. you're a professional, stop acting like a child._

she sent another reductor curse to her bed, and then her bathroom door, and then the wall just above her dresser. _why don't i get to be a fucking kid? why does everyone in this school get to torture me as i watch them get to be kids?_

frustrated tears fell down her face, and all she wanted to do was beat her skull into the wall until it cracked and bled out. an emotional outburst like that would only lead to another psych evaluation, and she didn't need a medical professional to tell her what was wrong with her. she already knew. 

she pressed her head against the glass as she waved her wand and repaired all the damage she caused. it was like she was never there. she promised herself again, that there would be no more slip ups. 

but again, she was wrong.

•••

it had been two days from the incident when it finally dawned on her. 

she spent those days consistently downing calming draughts and energy potions to get her through the day. her worsening condition had been making it harder to function. her memory was getting inconsistent, and she constantly forgot to cast glamours on herself so she wouldn't look like a walking corpse. professor silva told her to go to the hospital ("you look like death, ms. edwards. it's ruining the aura of my greenhouse."), but she had more important things to think about. whatever was wrong with her would pass eventually, and she'd deal with it until it did. 

"are you alright, edwards?" rosier had whispered to her as silva dismissed them from class. she ignored him.

she knew what was wrong. she couldn't admit it to herself. 

it would go away in a few days, it always did. 

sicaria had managed to avoid every single one of the boys outside of class, not for lack of trying on their part. she really didn't know how she was supposed to react to a situation like that aside from distancing herself from them. she would have to stay away until she could resolve the situation, but every time she tried to think, there were too many holes that confused her. she resorted to disillusionment charms to get them to leave her alone, pestering her with apologies. _why were they apologizing?_

with her free time and no friends, she had time only to research and plan, and though she should have been working on her macusa assignment, only one question was plaguing her mind. she couldn't focus on it even if she tried. 

_why hadn't they shown any physical effects?_

based on their reactions, it's clear that they knew what was coming, so she thought that maybe the four of them had taken a potion so they wouldn't feel the effects. she looked through all the anesthetic potions she could find but still found nothing. no charms, potions, magical objects, or runes. something was missing. 

she thought back to the diagnostic before it hit her. _dark magic traces._

she practically bolted to the library and went through eight books before she found what she was looking for. her potions were beginning to wear off, and all this movement and thinking was making bile rise in her throat. she cast a cooling charm over herself as she read to stop the sweating. 

_Feel No Evil Enchantment._

her eyes darted over the description of the spell and with every passing line, her anger skyrocketed. alarm bells went off in her head and she heard ringing in her ears.

as sick as she felt, there was also a huge wave of relief washing over her. they hadn't been hurt because of her, and riddle wasn't sick enough to torture his friends. they only lied to her, they didn't get hurt because of her, and that thought gave her a fleeting consolation. that relief was quickly overcome with rage though. they let her wallow in guilt for _days_ and still had nothing to say. before she knew what she was doing, she stormed out of the library and into the common room, where the five of them sat. they were talking about something but she interrupted, in no mood for politeness. _calm down, don't throw up, don't cry. calm down, don't..._

"i need to speak to the four of you," she said to the four of them, ignoring riddle entirely. 

he watched her, analyzing her eyes and her body. she was making no attempt to hide her anger, and surely the entire common room could feel it. "you must know that they'll come back and tell me everything you say to them, yes?"

"shut _up_ , riddle," nott hissed through gritted teeth. 

he disregarded nott and stared into her eyes as he waited for a response, but what irritated and disappointed when all she did was look at him. no emotion, no nothing. just a quick blank stare, only to convey that she had heard him. he took in her appearance and was... curious, about what he saw. her eyes were sunken in and there were bags under her eyes. her skin looked clammy and pale. _the hell is wrong with her?_

his friends shot him dirty looks but he ignored it. he only watched _her_ , but did not follow as his four friends and the american witch exited the common room. 

she stood before them, clutching the ripped book page in her hand. she looked at them in the eyes, waiting. her eyes traveled over all of them, looking at their uncomfortable postures. they all gazed back at her, taking in their friends' appearance. she was usually lively, albeit guarded, but right now she looked like a cadaver. she was shaking slightly, but they misinterpreted it as rage. 

lestrange worked up the nerve first. "are you ill, sicaria?"

"don't call me that." she spat. she was absolutely seething, glad she had left her wand in her room because she didn't know if she could have self control right now. 

his face fell. "why? we're friends remember?" he said.

malfoy sighed and pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. "look i get why you're mad at him, but we haven't done anything. none of us are mad at you for letting us-"

"how _dare_ you?" she said incredulously. "no more use lying now."

"what are you-"

"read it. "she held out the hand holding the folded up book page. "go on. and after you do, i'm sure you'll understand why i hope that none of you will speak to me again." she didn't mean that. they knew she didn't mean that. she had to get them away though; any more slip ups and macusa could come running in here any minute, obliviating the memory of her from everyone she'd come in contact with. 

"edwards, what are you-"

" _read it,_ " she hissed, shoving the paper into malfoy's hands. 

he unfolded it and blanched. she watched his reaction carefully and knew that she had been right. "out loud, malfoy. or have you become illiterate in your guilt?"

the other three neared toward him to see the parchment, but he started reading before they could see. "...spells to replicate the effects of torture on a bystander, a victim, or a caster. for one, the _feel no evil_ curse allows for the onlooker to experience the third person effects of the cruciatus curse, but the victim does not experience any of the pain, nor physical after effects."

she laughed at all their horrified reactions. "you can imagine my surprise. do you feel even a _fraction_ of the guilt i felt?"

lestrange had still yet to say anything. she stared at him in his eyes, waiting for him to, but he never did. 

nott spoke instead. "how did you-"

"do you all take me for a fool? i casted the diagnostics to make sure he hadn't caused any internal bleeding, but i found that there were no physical effects at all, only lingering traces of dark magic. i was too preoccupied at the time to focus on it, but in the days i've spent wallowing in guilt, i realized that something wasn't quite right with that whole scene."

she looked manic. it was frightening them. she looked like she was bordering insanity; like she'd snap and jump off the astronomy tower at any moment. 

rosier started to plead. "i'm sorry, okay? i'm so, so sorry, but-"

"that was the other thing too," she cut him off. she couldn't listen to his apology, the desolation in his voice making her so desperate to forget it ever happened, but she couldn't. she couldn't slip up again, or she would put all their lives in jeopardy. "the constant apologizing. i wondered, _'what are they apologizing to me for?'_ that was a big giveaway."

"what do you want us to do? how do we fix it, edwards?" malfoy asked exasperatedly. he could pretend to dislike her all he wanted, but having her be angry at them was torturous. what was it about this girl that fit so perfectly into their friend group, that the thought of losing her so soon was driving them all crazy? 

she shook her head. "there's no fixing this. you're all a bunch of snakes, and i'm not going to put myself in a situation like that again." she felt her gut wrench as she said it, but she had to. _i'm saving their lives. don't feel bad. they'll hate you, but at least they'll be alive. you're saving them._

nott shook his head vigorously. "no, he won't try anything like that again. it was unsuccessful, and he won't do the same unsuccessful thing twice."

"unsuccessful?" she repeated. "not wrong. not dangerous. not reckless, or irrational, or unethical. unsuccessful."

"that's just how he is. he's always been-"

"i don't care," she said. "i don't care because i don't know him. and i don't know any of you either. goodnight."

she turned away, back toward the dungeon door, but before she could open it, nott's voice called out to her. his mind was racing with things he could say to her to make her stay, even for a moment longer. he needed to buy himself time to think. "you're just like him. you lie and manipulate just as much as he does, and your conscience hates you for it."

always the strategist, nott was. he was trying to provoke her.

"don't pretend for a _second_ that this is about _my_ conscience," her eyes closed as she let out a sharp exhale before turning back. _control yourself. stay rational. lie._ "goading me into an argument won't work, but i'll entertain you for a moment. when i lie, it's out of necessity. i don't lie for myself. has it ever crossed any of your minds that maybe the things i lie about are to protect other people? you do know who killed my parents right?" she swallowed the feeling of hysteria. there was too much truth in this statement, but she had to get them to fear being around her. that was the only thing that would keep them all separated. it didn't work. "when i lie, i don't hurt anyone. when i manipulate, i don't hurt anyone, or _pretend_ to hurt anyone. i am _nothing_ like him."

she watched all their eyes, and none of them spoke. this was another prolonged silence between the five, but she could feel them still holding on by a thread. there was a sliver of hope still that this could be fixed.

emotions and rationality do not go together. if you think with your emotions, or try to guess other peoples emotional reactions, you'd always be wrong. humans were unpredictable creatures, and they were made to act based on instinct. sicaria spent all her life suppressing her emotions and instincts, making her the pragmatic woman she was. how was it that a group of five teenage boys did enough to completely shatter the barriers she put up? she couldn't let that happen again, to save them and to save herself. not that she particularly cared about herself.

 _say it._ her mind told her. _cut them off completely. make them not want to come back._

she couldn't. 

she hoped this would be enough.

it wasn't. and she knew.

she made eye contact with lestrange one more time. he had still yet to say a single word, but his eyes spoke enough. he would talk to her eventually, but now was not the time. 

she forced herself not to turn back around and look at them again. instead she walked as quickly as she could without falling down the hallway. she didn't know where she was going, she just turned corners until she ended up in a courtyard. it was raining, and she sat down in the mud, looking up at the moon. this would be her last emotional outburst. it had to be. she needed to put the pieces of her resolve back together. _you have a job to do. grow up and be a professional. the war hasn't stopped because you decided you wanted to be a child again._ she did not sleep this night. 

rational sicaria would be upset for not severing the friendship completely, but human sicaria clutched that small connection with everything she could. she was addicted to it, and the withdrawal would be infinitely more painful than the drug withdrawal she was going though right now. 

the four boys stood in the hallway a moment longer. lestrange was the first one to abruptly slam the dungeon door back open. riddle was in his same position as before, watching his friend storm across the common room. the other three followed him inside, looking equally dejected, but not as outwardly angry. 

"lestrange," riddle called in a plain voice. lestrange stopped in his stride, seeming to battle with himself before shooting a withering look at riddle and continuing his angry stride down the hallway to his dorm. lestrange _never_ ignored riddle. something had happened. he turned to the other three. "what the hell is wrong with him?"

rosier ran his hands through his hair. "she knows."

"what?" riddle asked. _she knows what?_

unexpectedly, malfoy was the first to take his anger out. he spun around and pushed the book page into riddles hands with the same frustration that edward's had done to him. riddle looked at him, the anger starting to flare up behind his eyes. his friends never treated him this way, and he had done _much_ worse than this. _what did she do to them?_

riddle gritted his teeth to threaten his friend, but malfoy beat him to the punch. "i told you that this would backfire, didn't i? i told you that she'd figure it out. i told you that this is the _worst_ plan that you've ever dragged us into." malfoy was talking rather loudly, and it was starting to attract attention around the common room. _no one_ spoke to riddle that way, especially not his friends. 

"you're causing a scene, malfoy. what has-"

" _read it._ " rosier hissed, and he stormed off also. riddle eyed his friends, wondering what possibly could have caused them to behave this way. what was so special about this girl that his friends were acting like fools in defense of her?

his eyes looked down to the paper and his face was impassive as he read it. he threw the paper into the fire angrily. the second he looked up and glanced around the room, all of the stares of their fellow slytherins diverted. _how did she know?_

malfoy gave out a derisory laugh. "none of us told, if that's what you're thinking. too loyal to you, even after you've fucked us over time and time again." riddle had not been thinking that at all. 

nott watched the interaction between the two from a few feet away. he observed how riddles eyes moved and flashed at malfoys' harsh, but true words. the knights would always have riddles back, and he would always have theirs, but that did not make him a good _friend._ his own anger subsided as he watched the pair interact, noting that riddle was being uncharacteristically timid behind his austere demeanor. he wasn't being cruel or vindictive like usual. only his friends could see that something internal was going on with him. 

"you all went along with it," riddle accused caustically, but it was half assed. if he wanted to really hurt malfoy he could, but he didn't. nott continued watching with interest. "you all helped, and you were all in on it. don't try to make me out to be the bad guy here. you're no martyr, malfoy." 

"yeah, i did help. and i'd do it again if you asked. and you are the villain, riddle. you're the only one who doesn't feel the slightest bit bad about what you did to her." malfoy said scathingly. 

malfoy was wrong. well, not _entirely_ wrong. 

tom riddle didn't feel bad about things. the word _remorse_ was foreign on his tongue. 

but he did feel _something._

that was terrifying.

•••

two more days passed before lestrange could talk to her. she could not afford to mess this up, and lestrange had the best chance at making her break her resolve. 

he approached her at breakfast on saturday morning, dressed in his quidditch uniform. she had taken to eating her entire meals in five minutes so that no one (friend or fiend) had time to accost her. she at alone now, but a ravenclaw girl had invited her to eat with her and her friends. _maybe next week._

"can i speak to you?" he approached her section of the table where she sat alone. she eyed him warily before nodding. he sat in front of her. 

he studied her; hesitating before speaking. he could see the fight behind her dead eyes, battling not to let him back in. he needed to push that. he looked over her whole face and saw the oddly waxy look to her skin. she looked sallow and terminal. "are you ill?"

"that's not what you came to ask me." her sharp tone caught him off guard, but he could see she didn't mean it. her face was blank, but her eyes were pleading with him to let her go. he wouldn't. 

"right," he said. "um the potions assignment we have is-"

"what do you want, lestrange?" _okay, that strategy wouldn't work._ he remembered how much she hated stalling, and got straight to the point. the point being the lie that he came up with that he hoped she'd react to. 

"I don't understand why you're upset with me!" he lied angrily, but quiet enough that the people nearby did not look up. news about _the new girl_ splitting up with _riddle and his friends_ had spread throughout the school. she did her best not to retaliate against the rumors that she and rosier had a _secret love affair_ and broke up once _lestrange found out and went on an angry rampage._ the price of having male friends as a woman. 

"liar." _stay calm. he's trying to irritate you. stay calm_. "you don't understand? you need me to break it down for you? fine. i watched you write and scream on the floor while i thought that your best friend had casted an illegal curse on you because of _me_ , but i couldn't help you. the information he wants from me would endanger _every single person_ in this castle. i couldn't understand why you were letting him treat you and your best friends like that. then, i come to find out that you lied to my face in the worst way possible. that's not at all comparable to me not wanting to talk about my past. that's why i'm upset with you."

"i had to," lestrange half supplicated half yelled. "he's saved my arse so many times, he needed a favor. i can't choose you over him."

she wanted to laugh in his face, but that would be cruel. "i'm not mad at you choosing him over me, i don't want you to. you're undeniably loyal to your best friend and i respect that, but that doesn't mean that i'm not still upset with you. with all of you. i can't put myself in situations like that anymore, whether they're real or not, so i'm staying away from all of you. at least until i can fix this."

"that's not fair-"

"i don't care if it's fair." _say it._ "tell me, if he came to you right now and told you to dose me with veritaserum, would you do it?" 

he hesitated. she knew he would, but it still hurt. "that's not a fair question. edwards, you can't expect me to-"

"you'd do it if he asked you, and that's okay. we do bad things for the people we love. i'm making you all less of a liability. you don't have to choose anymore, i've chosen for you." she gave him an apologetic smile. it gave him hope. she stood from the table, watching the uneaten food vanish from her plate. nausea.

"sicaria, please-"

"I'll see you around, _lestrange_." she walked away amidst his protestations. 

slytherin won the quidditch match by a huge margin, beating hufflepuff 370 to 40. it was a great win, and as the team went to celebrate on the pitch right after the game, rosier shoved him. 

he pointed to the stands. lestrange followed his hand and saw her sitting in the very back, farthest away from any of the other members of the house. it seemed that no one had noticed her up there. she didn't see that they had noticed her, she was too busy staring at the sky as it started to rain. 

"i'm going to fix it." lestrange said to rosier when they turned away from her. 

rosier only looked at him. "maybe she doesn't want it to be fixed. maybe she's better off without us dragging her down."

lestrange shook his head. "why would she come if there wasn't still a chance?" rosier was silenced, knowing his friend was right. 

he semi-celebrated the match feeling decidedly much better. sure, she had outright told him what was wrong, and she was still exceeding angry with all of them, but she came to the match. there was _hope._ there was a chance. 

he just hoped that riddle wouldn't screw it up for them.


	19. xvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i haven't made it clear enough yet, sicaria is going through drug withdrawal right now. no matter how much she denies it, she is an addict, and her path to recovery WILL be through medical intervention, not the "power of friendship" bullshit.  
> there will be more in depth scenes about her problem and how coke affects her psychologically, but for now, this chapter is focusing on her reaching the worst part of withdrawal.

november 1944

sunday came all too quickly. she downed more potions to make her feel normal, even though her condition was now making it difficult for her to do anything without feeling like she'd pass out. she entered dumbledore's office at 7:55 p.m. and she transfigured her school robes into the attire she always wore to work. the time difference meant that while it was late evening here, it was only afternoon in new york. dumbledore smiled warily at her as he prepared his fireplace to floo. 

"are you well?" he asked her, knowing that she was not. he could see the strain in her face, even after taking all those potions. the illness and the isolation had been weighing heavily on her body, and it was collapsing under the stress. "has something happened?"

she only stared at him. he knew something had happened, but she did not want to talk about it, least of all with him. "i'm handling it. i'm fine." she lied.

"i mean physically also," he said, referring to the fact that she looked terminal. he decided not to push her on the situation that had gone down with her friends. he saw the way they stole glances at her during his class, and how she no longer waited for them when she left. he noticed how she ate alone now. "but it's alright to have friends, ms. edwards. you don't have to push them away. it hasn't been affecting your _performance._ " his disdain for the assignment she was given seeped through his concerned tone. 

"i'm fine." she repeated. she ignored the last part of his statement. the last thing she needed right now was another reason to run back to the only real friendships she had ever had in her life.

he stared at her. "have you relapsed?" she fought hard not to laugh. _relapse._ such a funny word.

relapse typically referred to people who had received treatment.

"i'm not an addict." 

he finished the fire but turned back to her, looking her directly in the eye as he spoke. "you must allow yourself to be a child, ms. edwards. you are so young, dealing with the issues that should belong to people who have lived much longer than you have. find a better way to cope, ms. edwards. friendship is a magic that not all have the ability to posses, but i-"

"i don't mean to be rude, mr. dumbledore," she did mean to be rude. he smiled warmly, not taking it personally. "but i do think that it's time we get going."

he held out his arm and she took it as the pair of them stepped into the green flames. the heat overwhelmed her. "fireplace 9 on the 43rd floor of woolworth building, manhattan." she spoke clearly as dumbledore threw the powder at their feet. 

the swirling sensation made her retch as they were pushed through the space-time continuum. once her feet landed on the floor of the busy new york building, she felt the sensation of her whole body struggling not to shut down as her brain spun in her head. _that's new._ dumbledore did not see her reaction; he had already stepped forward to talk to the floo manager and arrange their journey back to his office after the meeting had finished. 

they walked down the long hallways and he spoke as they made their way into the meeting chamber. "you'll see the hospital wing tomorrow morning?" the demand was phrased as a request. she nodded. she didn't know if she was lying or not.

she took her usual place in the center of the room and nodded slightly at barry campbell, who had just sat in his place at the far right end of the panel. she tapped her foot absentmindedly as she prosecutor read the record and took attendance of _all 17 people_ in the room. 

"good afternoon all. the hearing for this panel will now commence. today we are here to discuss matters regarding operation number 909-4637-21: authorization granted by..."

the words were hell to listen to. every administrative moment that passed was signified by a tick of the clock. with every tick, she felt like a nail was being inched further and further into the back of her skull. sicaria wondered how long it would take before it hit her brain. 

"identity check for sicaria edwards attendance." the prosecutor asked stupidly staring directly at her. the formalities of bureaucracy were tiresome. "prompt: chicago."

she was made to memorize the entire chart of identity checks. 

_if prompt is a US city or state; response if normal: PHILADELPHIA, response if in distress: SACRAMENTO._

"here," she grumbled. she couldn't waste her energy being derisive today. she needed all she had to be able to get through this meeting without passing out on the floor. "response: philadelphia."

the prosecutor talked more and more and she could hear the sonographer quill scratching away at the parchment, copying down every word said in the chamber. a few minutes passed of her reciting the formal speeches of the counsel before they moved to the first order of business. 

"have there been any threats to the security of your assignment?"

"no."

"has anyone discovered your true identity or any other classified information?"

"no." she lied quickly and unnoticed. easy.

"do you have any requests for immediate detainment, extradition, or termination of any suspects?"

"no."

"do you feel you are in need of a psychological evaluation?"

"no."

relying on a sick persons word to decide if they needed help was abhorrently lazy. _i am not sick._

the quill scratched for a moment longer before pausing. the prosecutor cleared her throat. "next on the agenda, the panel will appraise the agent's requests for classified files regarding 'Messia Malfoy-Upsillon: general', 'known British Ministry affiliates of: Daniel Mercanthy', and 'Alicia Harley: witness and victim archives.' the panel asks what the agent needs access to said files for."

she sat up in her chair. "messia malfoy-upsillon is a relative of a student. the students testimony insisted that she was loyal to grindelwald's ideology, and her file could allow me some insight. daniel mercanthy is a british businessman, and a family member of his claims to know of a british ministry official who has nefarious connections to grindelwald. alicia harley is a former or current member of the british ministry of magic, and only her testimony of the events of her torture could allow insight into what information grindelwald was trying to take from her."

"you did not request the arrest or detainment of messia malfoy-upsillon?" a panel member asked in an accusatory voice. 

"no."

"why?"

"because i didn't deem her a threat."

"you said she was a known associate!"

she peered over at the counselman talking. he must have been one of the bleeding heart officials who were too emotionally driven to think rationally. perhaps he had a pension. "the student indicated that the event happened when he was young. attending grindelwald rallies was not considered to be an act of 'abetting terrorism' until 1941. the student also didn't indicate that she had done anything illegal. she's just one of the regular blood-purists."

"she should still be arrested and interrogated."

"on what grounds?" her indignation rose as did the dull throb of her brain in her cephalic cavity. "need i remind you that blood based discrimination _isn't_ illegal?"

"are you some kind of blood supremacist?" he spat. she let out a barking laugh even though it hurt her throat, head, and chest.

"that has nothing to do with my ability to think rationally," she said. "but no, if it helps you sleep at night. i am not a blood supremacist, i'm only pointing out that being one isn't illegal."

"and you don't think it should be?"

"what does this have to do with the investigation? if i say no, will you fire me?"

"no."

it wasn't a real attempt, but she groaned and leaned back in her seat anyway. she could feel the effects of the potion slipping away from her. "fine. _no, i don't think blood supremacy should be illegal._ and let me explain why."

there were two gasps, but the rest of the panel was quiet waiting for her to continue. eileen vota gave sicaria her first glance. 

"blood supremacy is an idea." she started. "an idea is a thought. there's no way to regulate or prove peoples thought's if they don't tell us. having a discriminatory idea doesn't cause physical harm to anyone, so it's impossible to regulate. just like racism, sexism, or anti-semitism."

"the difference between assault and a hate crime is the intention behind it. would that not also be an idea based crime?" this was an old female voice. her words were calculated, but her tone was righteous and pearl-clutching. 

"but before they committed the hate crime, the hypothetical perpetrator still held those values, and had not yet acted on them. you can't charge someone for something they haven't done yet. you can't regulate people's thoughts. that's tyranny."

"you _dare_ stand here in a government building and defend blood supremacy?"

"i'm not _defending_ anything. i simply said that it would be impossible to legislate it. all you can do is pass anti discrimination laws, but you can't control how people think. that's a societal issue that has to be fixed in society." she gave a derisive snort. "should i remind the panel of all the anti-nomaj and nomaj-born laws that were written in this building?"

the prosecutor cleared her throat. "i think it's best we return to the agenda."

the counsel asked a few more questions, all of which she answered with a short _yes_ or _no._ her headache was increasing rapidly, and the last thing that she needed was to get blood tested here again. if they put her through another psych evaluation, she just might snap, so she forced her body to look and remain normal as she conserved energy for her brain. 

"ms. edwards, are you paying attention?"

"not because i want to be." she muttered, staring directly at the councilwoman who interrupted the prosecutors spiel to reprimand her. 

she gave the meeting her partial attention, only tuning in for the final moments. 

"all members in favor of allowing the agent access to files regarding messia malfoy-upsillon?"

"affirmative," said 9 members. 

"negative," said 3 members. 

"motion passes. all members in favor of allowing the agent access to files regarding daniel mercanthy?"

"affirmative," said 11 members. 

"negative," said 1 member. 

"motion passes. all members in favor of allowing the agent to access files regarding alicia harley?"

"affirmative," said 6 members. 

"negative," said 6 members. 

"motion is stalled. does the agent wish to continue to persuade the counsel, or would the agent prefer to retract the request."

she started to squint her eyes. the bright blue light overhead was making her eyes ache. "retract."

"motion fails. panel secretary will deliver the two approved files to the agent." the blonde haired secretary scurried over across the floor and dropped the two files right into sicaria's lap. the blonde witch gave her a pleasant smile. she did not return it. she couldn't waste any energy. _i'll remember next time i'm here to be nice to her._

"that's it then?" she asked hopefully. 

"do you not read the agendas, child?" the prosecutor asked. 

"of course not. if i did, then i wouldn't be asking." she only spoke the truth. "i'd also prefer if you referred to me in a more professional manner. this panel refuses to legally view me as a child, why should you get to refer to me as one?"

she always made sure to slip in the reminder that this was extortion; of a child nonetheless. she was eighteen now, but she wasn't when they recruited (threatened) her. 

there were grumbles among the panel. "we have one final order before you are dismissed. the panel has a request."

sicaria didn't respond. the last thing she needed right now was more things to focus on.

"the panel has another request for the agent. the official paperwork for the addition will be mailed to your current deep-cover residence."

"more of a command than a request-" she muttered. 

"i assume you remember the well publicized betrayal of matthew abernathy."

"i was _one_ ," she said scathingly. "but i've read the story. that was 17 years ago."

"the search for him discontinued in 1937 because he was presumed dead. we have intelligence now stating that he is alive, and that his direct descendants may know of his location or future whereabouts. there is a student at hogwarts school named davis abernathy. you are to conduct a _full scale interrogation_ on him, and send the report back the moment you finish."

 _full scale interrogation._ she'd have to use real veritaserum, which lasted for three hours. she'd have to find a way to get him alone for three hours, and then remove _three hours_ of his memory without him noticing. "fantastic."

for the third time this meeting, she zoned out, focusing on keeping her breathing steady and making sure her hands weren't shaking. she decided that she would have to go to the hospital wing tomorrow, but would they even be able to help her? drug withdrawal did not exist in the magical world, so what solutions could a magical healer be able to give her? 

"...will be alerted before the next hearing. unless there are any further objections, this meeting is adjourned." it took her a moment to stand, and when she did, her vision blurred. 

_just get back to my dorm. you just need to get back to the dorm. you'll go to sleep and then go to the hospital in the morning. you'll be fine, just get back to the dorm._

the mantra she chanted in her head was disrupted when she and dumbledore exited the floo. the hearing had taken a little more than four hours, so while it was 7 in new york, it was midnight back at hogwarts. 

upon stepping out of the floo, she stumbled so harshly that she had to prop herself up against the wall of his office, accidentally smothering a painting that objected loudly. the piercing reprimands of the potion tore her senses to shreds, and her head gave an angry response.

"ms. edwards, i am taking you to the hospital wing," dumbledore said, eyeing her nervously. she only shook her head, because if she opened her mouth the would throw up. 

she took a deep breath and tried to make sense of the situation. "the files. i need to lock them in my room."

dumbledore did not concede. "self-preservation is not a sin. your work can wait."

"i don't care about the work, i care that if anyone sees these files, they'll try to send me off to azkaban for treason." _talk slower, your speech is slurring._ "i will go to the hospital wing first thing tomorrow morning."

he called out to her, but she was already walking out the door. he did not follow her, and she thanked him silently for that. 

she rushed through the empty halls quickly, transfiguring her clothes back into her school uniform. _if i run, i might make it to my bathroom fast enough before i vomit. if i keep walking, i might be able to hold it in a bit longer, but i might not make it to my bathroom fast enough._

she weighed the pros and cons, but it didn't matter, because her body was beginning to shut down. she couldn't will her legs to run if she wanted to. she barely summoned the strength to push the dungeon doors open with trembling hands. she stumbled through the door and her ears immediately perked up at the sound of voices. her head snapped to the left so fast that she got dizzy. the last people she wanted to see. their voices died and eyes met hers when the dungeon door closed behind her. 

panic rose in her throat. or bile. she couldn't tell which. 

_just keep going, ignore them. pretend you don't see them._

she hadn't realized she had been leaning up against the wall, and tried to push herself off, but lost her balance completely and had to grasp a table to remain upright. her legs wavered dangerously, as she struggled to keep herself upright. _god this is so embarrassing._

 _why are they always in the common room,_ she thought, but the searing pain in her head made her wince and stumble. her hands were shaking so hard that she couldn't even grasp her wand. 

_maybe i'm just hallucinating them._ delirium was a withdrawal symptom.

 _why is she always here in the middle of the night,_ they thought, but upon seeing her clearly disoriented state, they concluded something was wrong. 

"edwards? are you alright?" nott called upon seeing her slip. 

"i'm fine." 

she was not. she tried to take a step, but her heartbeat was arrhythmic. the shock of it made her entire body jerk slightly. she retched but nothing came up, and fell to the ground. _fuck, fuck, fuck, this is bad._

her legs had given out beneath her. all five of them shot up (at varying speeds), even when she _tried_ to shoo them off. some looked with panic and concern, others with suspicion and concern. malfoy and riddle also stood slowly, looking attentively at her waving in and out of consciousness. she was hyperventilating.

"are you hurt?" lestrange questioned as rosier casted a diagnostic over her. _sleep deprivation, nervous system errors, arrhythmia, flaccid muscle tissue..._

it was like her body was deteriorating. 

"you haven't slept in three days?" rosier asked incredulously, but her brain could not process the question. _too much going on. calm down, stop thinking._

_don't have a panic attack._

"take her to the hospital wing," malfoy said, swallowing nervously. "i'm sure she's fine. maybe she's just got stomach flu, or something."

there were black spots in her vision. she was losing consciousness. "no," her voice trembled, but could barely pull herself together enough to say the next sentence. "i'm _fine_." _don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, calm down._ her brain was screaming at her, but too many things were happening at once. 

they ignored her. 

"malfoy, nott," riddle was assessing the situation. "take her to the hospital wing. rosier, were there any traces of a curse when you cast the diagnostic?"

rosier shook his head. malfoy picked up her limp body as she feebly tried to get him to put her down. she resigned. there was no getting out of this one. she neither had the energy nor the cognitive function to try to talk her way out of this one. "no, no. i need to-"

"edwards, shut up. you're going to the hospital."

lestrange stood up from the floor slowly, turning to look at one of his best friends directly in the face. the emotion that was stirring within him was unrecognizable, but a small sliver of pleading seeped through his tone. 

" _tom_ ," he stared riddle, the eye contact was tense. he used his first name. "please, _please,_ don't lie to me right now." _please tell me you didn't do this. please tell me you haven't hurt another person._

riddle understood what he was asking. he had caused his friends too much pain recently to be able to be vindictive. his friend was hurting, and it _hurt_ to know he was accusing him of such a thing, even though it was plausible by no stretch of the imagination. any other time, he would have messed with lestrange, led him on and laughed and sneered. but seeing his friends like this, about seeing _her_ like this, triggered something in him. 

he couldn't be cruel right now. he couldn't.

he didn't want to.

of course, he could entirely see why lestrange would think he was at fault. it almost hurt to think that his friends knew him to be such a monster to go to lengths of poison, but in reality, he'd done much worse in the past. he looked back at his friend with equal intensity. 

"i have nothing to do with it." he said firmly. 

lestrange searched his friends face for any trace of deception. his voice was grave and uncertain when he spoke. "swear to me."

"i swear to you. i have done nothing to cause her harm." he said truthfully, and lestrange turned away. he believed him. 

malfoy, the physically strongest of the five of them (though they could've used a levitation charm), carried her now unconscious body to the hospital wing, along with nott and lestrange, who had refused to leave her side. malfoy was shocked to see how cold her body was.

rosier and riddle stayed behind in the common room, waiting for their friends to return. rosier paced around while riddle stood silently in thought.

rosier spoke suddenly, his tone accusatory. "i swear to _god_ , riddle-"

"i didn't lie to him." he said quickly, not really wanting to talk. "i didn't do anything to her."

the way his friends had immediately assumed he was responsible stirred something in him. the last thing he wanted to do was self-reflection, because that would require him to admit he wasn't perfect, but once the thoughts started, he couldn't help to do anything but think. 

he would never admit it to anyone, but it caused an emotion to jump to the front of his mind so quickly that it startled him. 

he felt _guilty._


	20. xviii

november 1944  
  
  


"what substance was it?" the mediwitch asked. those were the exact words that she knew were true, but had been dreading to hear. "looks to me like you're going through withdrawal."

"are you muggle-born?" sicaria asked, but elaborated at the witches' confused expression. _healer miranda_ her nametag said. she looked young, likely under thirty, and her long red hair was tied behind her head in a small knot. "it's just that magical substances and plants don't cause withdrawal symptoms. i was under the impression that withdrawal was a purely muggle-drug affliction." her voice was hoarse; she had thrown up twice since she woke up in the empty hospital ward.

healer miranda smiled sympathetically, but shook her head. "no, but i work with muggles when school isn't in session. i'm a nurse for the british army; trust me i know what withdrawal looks like. once the soldiers are told that they don't need morphine anymore, they go absolutely around the bend."

sicaria chuckled dryly at the british idiom. "is that what i'm doing? going around the bend?" she shifted her arm to sit over her eyes so that it would shield her from the bright sunlight seeping through the windows. 

"no, but i do need to know what substance it is so that i can treat you best." healer miranda assumed the worst when three boys carried an unconscious girl into the hospital ward in the middle of the night. her apprehension only increased when they told her that they didn't know what had happened to her. she quickly ushered them out of the ward, assuring them that they could see her in the morning _if_ she wanted to see them.

after looking at the diagnostics, she was almost immediately sure that she knew what was wrong with the child in front of her. she'd seen the same symptoms in so many other muggle patients.

sicaria hesitated. _this woman is a medical professional, she can't tell my problems to anyone._ "benzoylmethylecgonine."

the healer actually laughed, one that was joyous, not mocking, and it made sicaria more comfortable. "you could have just said cocaine, sweetheart. no need for the chemical structure, and i'm not going to judge you."

"feels less like a problem if i refer to it as a chemical and not a drug." this was the first time she described her drug use as a 'problem' to anyone.

"'problem,' eh? was this a relapse? or have you never had treatment?" _there's that 'r' word again._

"i'm not addicted." she responded. she couldn't decide whether this was a lie or the truth. she _wasn't_ addicted; not to cocaine at least. the nurse seemed to realize and didn't press further. "i'm not at risk of overdose, if that's what you're worried about."

"what other substances have you used?"

"recently or generally?"

"both."

"none other than that recently, but i've been using energy potions and calming draughts to get through the day. but i've done methaqualone, methylphenidate, and benzodiazepine."

"put that in layman's terms for me," the nurse demanded. sicaria grimaced but obliged.

"quaaludes, ritalin, and benzos. happy?" her tone did not seem to affect the healer.

she nodded and smiled. "very. i could bring in a psych healer if you want?" but sicaria shot that down.

"I've already seen one of those. they don't understand non magic drugs. plus, i'm not an addict." this was almost true. if she wanted to talk about the real reason behind her drug use, it would have to be with an approved healer, and all they would do is read back her reports to another counsel of people who wouldn't care if she jumped off the top of the woolworth building as long as she didn't land on anyone. 

"fine, then you could talk to me if you'd like?" when sicaria didn't answer right away, the healer continued. "i have a muggle psychology degree, sweetheart. i know what i'm talking about."

"how did you manage that?" sicaria asked. 

"when i was doing my healer training, i'd spend the other parts of the day in class at cambridge. it was hard to juggle, but i got through it easy enough." 

sicaria nodded. she wasn't an addict, but the effects of the drug were starting to interfere with her work. it would be nice to have the emotional release that the high brought her without all the symptoms when she came down. 

she realized she hadn't answered her question. healer miranda took this as a cue to keep talking. "look, i'll treat you physically for the next two days, and then i think on the second day we should sit down and have a talk, yeah? i'll do an unbreakable vow that i won't tell anyone if it'll make you more comfortable?"

sicaria considered it and then nodded slowly. "alright, fine."

the healer smiled once again and began taking potions off a cart. the first was a silvery potion. "this is a nutritional potion and a sleep restorative. it'll undo all the damage _you_ did by waiting so long to get treated. this next blue one is a muscle strengthener mixed with wound healing and pain relief. it should bring your strength back to normal and stop your head and throat from hurting."

"this one," she said pointing to a black one, "is to get rid of the withdrawal symptoms. it's a mixture of muggle sedative science and a variation of a stimulant potion. if you had come to me the first night you started showing symptoms, i would have given you this and you wouldn't have ever been in that situation." _it's genius. sedatives and stimulants do the exact opposite tasks, so the perfect balance would make the drinker feel incredible._

sicaria's ears perked up but she willed herself not to react. instead she masked her interest with common curiosity. "mixture of muggle science and potion making? did you invent this potion?"

healer miranda nodded. "yeah. i use a muggle medication alprazolam to give the anxiolytic effects to the drinker, and then the stimulant is a variation i created." _alprazolam... that's xanax isn't it? i can't get my hands on any xanax, but alcohol is considered a sedative. all i need is something with high alcohol content. vodka, maybe?_

"but how did you bond them so that they kept potency?" she asked. 

"high heat to speed up the chemical reactions. there's transfiguration spells to bond certain elements like carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen among others." _ethanol is made up of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. i need to figure out those spells._

"i wasn't aware that there were magical stimulant potions." she lied. 

the healer only shrugged. "they're similar in composition to the energy potions you take, but they're much more complicated to brew." sicaria nodded, but made an expression of not understanding so that healer miranda wouldn't be suspicious.

_when i get out of here, i need to go straight to the library. find books on stimulant and energy potions. from there i can create a variation. all i have to do then is create a recipe and procedure._

_but i'll need another potioneer._

"the potions and delayed reactions may be why it affected you so harshly. have you withdrawn before?"

"yeah."

"how long ago? what did you do to resolve it?"

"couple months ago. i just got drunk for a few nights in a row and once the hangover wore off, i was weak but fine."

"that's not healthy, sweetheart. you could have liver damage." the mediwitch frowned. 

sicaria snorted. "yeah i figured it wasn't healthy, but i wasn't really prioritizing my health back then, was i? and i don't have liver failure, i check diagnostics all the time for internal injuries." _you shouldn't have said that._

she faintly heard the hospital ward door open, just as the healer said, "perhaps we'll save the rest of his discussion for wednesday, yeah?" she pushed the cart away toward the door of the inventory office before she called out. "you can take the silver potion now, and the blue on in two hours. i believe someone's here to see you, in the meantime."

sicaria groaned as she moved her aching body into an upright position upon hearing the footsteps nearing her. it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light.

"you're a very hard woman to find, edwards." he said, stalking toward her hospital bed. 

her head snapped toward the sudden voice and she scowled. "get out."

he did not. he only sat in the chair next to the bed. "i'm sure you're incisive enough to have done all the charms and diagnostics to see that i haven't poisoned you."

"course i have." that wasn't entirely true. she already knew that her condition wasn't because of a poison, but still, the moment she woke up she cast a diagnostic looking for traces of magic on her body. there were none.

"do they know what's wrong with you?"

"do you care?"

"would i have asked if i didn't?"

"that's a good question that i don't know the answer to." he didn't know the answer either. she did not meet his eyes. "i'm sure you aren't here just to check on my condition, so i'd appreciate if you'd just tell me why you're here."

"look at me."

she did. he was holding the silver potion out to her. she extended her hand to take it, and when she did, he grabbed her wrist and turned it over so that her palm was up. she didn't have the strength to pull it back, not that she wanted to. his hand was so warm. he examined it for a moment, and then dropped the vial of potion in her hand before releasing her hand. 

"you're not hypothermic anymore. you're less pale." he said. _interesting observation._

"did you bring me here last night?" she asked, unscrewing the top of the vial.

"no. i was there when you passed out. malfoy, nott, and lestrange brought you here."

she was struggling to read his tone. she was still unable to read past his eyes.

he stared directly back into her eyes as he continued speaking again. "the potion i took at the beginning of the duel was a temperament suppressant. i knew you were a strategist and you'd likely try to goad me and prey on the fact that i might react in anger, so i cut off that end. one of the side effects is a large emotional release after the potion wears off, so all the anger i had at losing was multiplied by it." he explained in a clinical tone. 

that explains so much. it explains why he went on a rampage after it wore off, and it also explained why he was a much worse duelist while under it's affects. 

that was why she beat him.

"and why are you telling me this?" she knew it was his half-assed version of an apology, but she was going to make this difficult for him.

"perhaps you'll be gracious enough to listen to my apology."

she laughed painfully and her throat ached. "you aren't sorry, so no, I don't want to hear you insincere apology." 

"how can you say i am insincere before you've heard the apology?"

"you ask a _lot_ of leading questions." she observed. every conversation he had with her consisted of him asking questions to tiptoe away from giving a direct answer. 

"and yet you never give the answer i prompt you to. answer this one for me." he leaned back in his chair, and she noticed the way his shirt and robes moved as his body moved. she turned her attention back to the question.

"because i understand you well enough to know that you'd do it in the future if you had a motive to justify it. you said so yourself that you'd try again. am i wrong in that evaluation?"

"no, but that does not mean that i should have done it in the past."

her eyes narrowed and her tone was still hoarse, but sharp. "is this out of guilt or remorse?"

"neither," he shrugged. "or both."

"stop messing with me, riddle. get to the point."

his eyes had yet to leave hers. "i sincerely apologize for the incident three days ago. i am at fault and i am taking responsibility for it." his tone was so stoic that it was almost clinical. 

"would you have apologized if i hadn't passed out in front of you?"

he thought for a moment. "that reality doesn't exist, so why dwell on _what if's_?"

she chuckled darkly at his deflection. "your apology ranks dead last compared to your friends'."

"lestrange, nott, rosier, and even _malfoy_ are miserable without your presence. i don't know what you've done to have them become so dependent on you, but its affecting their morale." 

"i've known them for a month, how attached could they possibly be?" she responded.

" _very_ , apparently." he grumbled. this was his first tonal shift, but she couldn't see the emotion behind it. 

"so that's why you're here, right? your little servants aren't acting right and you want me to make up for it?" her tone was much more volatile. 

"they might not be able to see through your attempts at insolence but i can. trust that you haven't fooled me. you want them back as much as they want you. they're my _friends_ , edwards. you're punishing yourself and them because you're upset with me." she couldn't hide the astonished look on her face. she removed it quickly while formulating a response.

"i'm upset with all of you, and i won't put myself in situations like this anymore. you've made your bed, now lie in it."

he stood and sighed angrily. _bitch._ "fine, but i leave with this." he leaned over her bed, causing her to lie down into her pillow. she stared blankly up at him as he lowered his voice. his left hand came to rest right beside her face. "i know there is some deeper reason to this. there's some other motive you have for not forgiving them, and i believe it has nothing to do with them at all. all you've done since you arrived is lie to everyone around you, and all of a sudden someone lies to you and that's the final straw? no, i don't think so. it would do you well to stop underestimating the observational abilities of those around you." he spike quickly and stared directly into his eyes.

"and i need a lesson from _you_ about pride?"

he inched closer, their noses almost toughing as he whispered. "you don't understand how much apologizing to you damaged my pride. that's beside the point though. i know there's something else going on with you, edwards, but it seems i've made an error in going about it. in investigating you, i've hurt them, and i don't plan on causing them any more harm, so by extension you're protected. talk to them." he finished with the demand and then finally leaned back. she felt like she could breathe again. "i do hope you feel better." 

he turned away and walked toward the exit.

she groaned angrily into her pillow and that was the last sound he heard before exiting the hospital doors. they were making it exceedingly hard to control her self restraint.

still, she had to admit that she missed them, even if they were becoming a liability. 

"you know," the mediwitch said, turning the corner out of her office. sicaria jumped. "it may be good to have friends during a time like this."

she scowled at the woman. "i'm _not_ telling them."

"i wasn't suggesting you do, but the emotional stress of your condition may be alleviated slightly if-" healer miranda was truly trying her best, but sicaria could not suppress the bitterness that jumped out before she had the chance to think about what she was saying.

"so you want me to use my friends to make myself feel better?"

"i know you're upset because of the ailment, but don't take it out on me." she said, and sicaria sighed apologetically. "if your friends are willing to help you, then i suggest you let them. this is a hard burden to bear alone, sweetheart."

"you sound like dumbledore," she grumbled and she nurse chuckled slightly.

"i never know if that's a compliment or an insult." sicaria didn't either.


	21. xix

november 1944

"i'm not addicted to cocaine," sicaria repeated this same phrase over and over, in her head and to anyone who asked. in truth, she wasn't an addict. at least, she didn't think she was. 

"then why do you use it?"

"because i hate how it makes me feel?" _stop bitching, she's trying to help you._

healer miranda scribbled on her notepad without taking her eyes from sicaria's face. sicaria stared determinedly at the window in front of her. it had been two days since she entered the hospital wing, but she truly felt much better. the healer easily managed to fix the withdrawal effects and also the physical signs of the stress it had caused her. "so it's a self harm habit?"

"it's not a habit," she replied. "but i phrased that wrong. i like how it makes me feel, but i'm not used to it so it makes me uncomfortable. it's like i'm not in control of my actions, which i hate, but i like not having to make choices. the chemicals choose for me." _i hate it, but i need what it gives me._

 _scratch, scratch, scratch._ "i see. and how would you describe this feeling of control?"

sicaria stole a quick glance at the notepad, but it was held at an angle she couldn't see. "organization, i suppose."

"and you've never tried anything else to achieve this feeling?"

sicaria snorted. "yeah, ritalin."

"and how did that make you feel?"

"terrible," she scowled at the memory. "it did the exact opposite of what i wanted it to do. made me feel too much like normal."

"what do you mean?"

"i do coke so i don't have to think. when i tried ritalin, it made me think too much."

"anything else that you've done to achieve that feeling?"

"i already told you. quaaludes, benzos, i guess alcohol but i drinking makes me slow-"

the healer made a small noise resembling a laugh. "i meant something that _isn't_ a drug."

sicaria shrugged. "never really thought about it."

"so you think drugs are the only things that can help you achieve this feeling of losing control?"

"i don't know. nothing else has worked. and also, it's not about losing control."

"then what is it about?"

"bad things happen when i don't control myself."

 _scratch, scratch._ "to you or to others? why do you think that?"

and with that question, the dam broke. sicaria told her everything she could without compromising herself. she fiddled with the ring on her hand before letting the words rush out, being unable to stop them. 

"when i was twelve, my parents got me a dog. it was one of the first that i loved, that could love me back. one day my mother came up to me and asked how much i loved the dog, and i told her that i loved it more than anything else in the world. they took the dog from me and they took turns casting the cruciatus on it and told me that when i learned to control myself and stopped crying, that the pain would stop. i attacked and cursed them, trying to get them to stop, but i was twelve so there was really nothing i could do. i finally stopped crying after a few hours, and they congratulated me before killing it, saying that it likely had brain damage by now. i wondered if they'd cry if i was being tortured. they gave me a shovel so i could go dig it's grave. they got me a cat a few weeks later, and i was smart enough not to get attached to it. i didn't give it a name. they were proud of me." she didn't mention that the curses she sent her parents were dark ones; ones that no twelve year old had any business knowing, or having enough hatred to be able to successfully cast them.

healer miranda stopped writing. she moved her mouth a few times but no words came out. "wh-"

"it might have been one of the worst days of my life, but it taught me two lessons. one, know when to lie. two, bad things happen when i don't control myself. it's a lot to ask of a twelve year old, but i made sure that thirteen year old me understood that lesson."

"ms. edwards, i think-"

"i've never told anyone this before, and it's already hard enough, so i'd appreciate if you didn't interrupt me," she snapped, but went back to her melancholic tone as she continued tor reminisce. "no more crying, just understanding the world as a series of stimuli and reactions. i was always supposed to be the cause, not the effect, and i understood that was what they were trying to teach me. the problem is that if i always am forcing myself to be in control, eventually humanity will kick in and i'll have an outburst that typically does irreversible damage, either to myself or someone else. i also can't account for what other people do, or what the universe will throw at me. so i found a system that allows me to be in control for most of my life, but then i get to let something else guide me for a few hours. so no, i am not addicted to cocaine. i just need a few hours of release every few weeks so that i don't impulsively jump off a skyscraper." _until december 25, 1945. then, i'm free._

"ms. edwards your parents are dead." healer miranda deadpanned. _yeah, i noticed._

"only good thing god's ever done for me." she gave a derisive laugh.

"what's stopping you from having a normal balance of emotion to rationality now?"

she hummed for a second before answering as vaguely as she could. "their legacy."

_bad things happen when i don't control myself._

healer miranda talked and talked about coping differently and finding new ways to fix her thought process without the use of drugs, but sicaria tuned her out. she would cope _her_ way until the day when she was free. after that, she wouldn't need to cope because she wouldn't be living the life that forced her to devalue peoples lives so that she wouldn't feel guilty watching them die. the healer patted her on the arm before giving her a book.

_Coping Mechanisms 101: Those with High Risk/Stress Lifestyles_

she couldn't help but laugh.

it was now midnight, and she was using the tip of her wand to light up the files she was furiously skimming over. the previous days, she had neither the time nor the energy to read the information or the tasks. the hospital stay was not a complete waste of time though; she got herself healed, and she figured out a way to not withdrawal after the next time she used. she scribbled out notes earlier in the night about what healer miranda had told her about the potion. she even went so far as to ask for the brewing instructions, but she responded that _i will not enable you to keep destroying your body to save your mind._ but which is more useful? sicaria valued her mind much more than her body. 

the office light flicked on quickly and sicaria immediately whispered _nox_ before laying back and feigning sleep.

"whatever homework you're working on can wait. sleep, or i'll make you." healer miranda called from the hallway.

•••

she saw the five boys on her way out of the great hall, following davis abernathy. when she passed them, all their eyes snapped to her and their conversation stalled. rumors had floated around the school about their mysterious falling out, which had emboldened many, _many_ boys to take their chances now. the sight of them clearly all stopping their conversation to gaze at her was enough to give her a fleeting moment of smugness. she smirked slightly. 

"talking about me?" she joked, but continued in her stride out of the hall. she did not see their incredulous expressions as she passed. she shouldn't have done it, but she couldn't resist. she was addicted to friendship, a new drug, and the withdrawal of that was far worse than anything cocaine could do to her.

rosier whirled around to riddle who was concealing a triumphant grin with his usual apathetic glare. "what did you do?"

riddle raised his eyebrow in questioning as he sipped from his glass. "does it matter?"

"is that your way of saying you've done something bad and don't want us to know?" malfoy said, but before riddle could respond, nott interjected. 

"no, i just think he's done something that damaged his pride and he's embarrassed of it."

riddle did not dignify the statement with an answer. 

"you really are a sociopath." lestrange chuckled. 

•••

"where is matthew abernathy?"

davis' body tensed up and he made a noise crossing between a groan and a snarl. 

"disregard that. why can't you tell me where matthew abernathy is?"

"his location is under fidelius charm, and i am not the secret keeper." she couldn't ask who the secret keeper was; the identity was likely under fidelius also, as were the names of the other people allowed within the concealed building. 

"does matthew abernathy only stay at the location under fidelius charm?"

"no."

"does matthew abernathy travel?"

"yes."

"do you know where matthew abernathy travels to?"

"not specifically. he travels around europe."

"when was the last time you were in proximity to matthew abernathy?"

"august 30, 1944." two days before school started.

"do you keep consistent contact with matthew abernathy?"

"no."

"why is matthew abernathy in europe and not america?"

"he says that if he returns to america, he will be executed for treason. he stays in europe _for the greater good._ "

"does matthew abernathy still aid gellert grindelwald?"

"yes."

"how was matthew abernathy approached by gellert grindelwald?"

"he wasn't. matthew sought him out first." _interesting._

"matthew abernathy previously worked for the magical congress of the united states of america. do you know how long he was passing information from there to grindelwald?"

"many years." _vague._

"do you know if matthew abernathy knows of other spies in any magical governments that secretly aid gellert grindelwald?"

"yes."

"do you know the names of any spies in magical governments that secretly aid gellert grindelwald?"

"matthew abernathy, eladora ackerman, boris lancaster." _bingo._

"who is eladora ackerman and what is the nature of her service to gellert grindelwald?"

"she is a spy. she works for the ministry of magic. i don't know specifically what she does for grindelwald." _draft a request for the immediate detainment and interrogation of eladora ackerman._

"who is boris lancaster and what is the nature of his service to gellert grindelwald?"

"he is a spy. he works for the ministry of magic in the department of transportation. he sets up and secures unsanctioned floo networks that only grindelwald supporters can use." _draft a memo for the immediate arrest of boris lancaster._

"how do you know this information about boris lancaster and eladora ackerman?"

"matthew abernathy is a loser and always has been to his family. he likes to brag about what he does that got him so big into grindelwald's acolytes."

"has he told you any other secrets about the magical congress of the united states of america?" _god, that was such a long title to say._

"the disappearance of percival graves, details about grindelwald's first escape from their holding facility, the assassination of leta lestrange, the terms of former president harringtons' resignation." _i don't even know about some of those._

"what story did you hear about the assassination of leta lestrange?"

"she got herself killed while trying to sacrifice herself. it made grindelwald angry though, because he needed some information from her before she died."

"what information did grindelwald need from leta lestrange?"

"something about a dumbledore, i don't know. i learned early not to ask questions."

she pursued a different end, one of personal curiosity. "why did you not come forward with this information before?"

he shrugged, but it was awkward. he looked like a marionette puppet that some omniscient hand was controlling. "it wasn't my business."

"are there more spies that you don't know of?"

"yes."

she fought the urge to run off to dumbledore's office right now and send the requests, but she knew that she still had time to urge information out of davis. he was an easy witness; he gave up information easily and without fight, seeming not really to care about the consequences. under veritaserum, people still tried to fight, but davis truly didn't seem to care. 

"do you know how matthew abernathy aids gellert grindelwald?"

"yes. he forms connections to some wizarding families who give money and resources in exchange for amnesty."

"which families does matthew abernathy form these connections to?"

"i don't know."

"where are these connections formed?"

he hesitates before answering. "pureblood events. holiday parties, social events. and then those families talk to each other, like a continent wide game of telephone." she nods slowly. 

"when is the next time one of these connection events will take place?"

"there's always one on christmas, but i do not think that my uncle will be there."

"do you know who _will_ be there?"

"pureblood families, i assume."

"do you know who is hosting?"

"the malfoy family." 

the rest of his information was inconsequential and when the time had finally run out, she released all the enchantments on him. she poured the antidote for veritaserum down his throat; the veritaserum had already run out, but the antidote made it undetectable in blood. before setting off down the hallway, she cut off the last few questions on the transcript; specifically anything mentioning the malfoy family. 

she made the executive decision to give them all the information about abernathy, but cut out the part about the christmas party. they'd go storming in there like idiots and her cover would be blown and all the possible information she could extract from them illegally would be lost to the law-abiding auror network. the aurors got away with horrible things, like brutality against suspects, but if the newspapers got wind of illegal interrogation tactics, public opinion would easily sway. they'd arrest people with no plausible cause, and end up kickstarting another turn of the tide in the war, and the last thing sicaria wanted was to keep this shitshow going. she'd find a way to get to the christmas party herself, and she'd do the investigating _herself_ if she had to. 

she waved her wand in a circular motion around davis' unconscious head and spoke in a soft slow voice. " _you've been in the library and fell asleep reading. you left the great hall and went straight to the library. you fell asleep in the library._ " the glimmering purple powder fell slowly out of the tip of her wand and absorbed into davis' skin. he gave a shudder, and then stilled. 

_if malfoy had never been her friend, would she have made this same decision?_ this question plagued her as she strode quickly down the hallway in the direction of dumbledore's office. her evaluation of macusa's reaction was entirely correct. there had been times in the past where they acted too quickly on minimal information and were forced to start from the bottom and find more to make any substantial arrests, but by that time, the terrorists had caught on, and had cleared all evidence before any aurors could get their grimy, little hands on them. they were so rash, so tactless sometimes, and this was an opportunity for obtaining huge players on the inside of grindelwalds ranks. she forced herself not to wonder why she didn't just let macusa fuck themselves over once again, but once the thought was in her head, it was hard to ignore. perhaps malfoy's connection to her did have a small impact; she was making the best decision for macusa by protecting malfoy (at least for a little while), but this good decision was not one she would have made if there was no personal stake in it. 

it just happened to work out on a personal and professional level. two birds with one stone.

she was looking for an excuse to forgive them, and now she had one.

she knocked on dumbledore's door, and when there was no answer for a few seconds, she yelled. "i'm sorry professor, but this is incredibly urgent."

the door swung open, and there sat dumbledore and slughorn, both looking toward her with smiles. while slughorns was warm and welcoming, dumbeldores was inquisitive, and slightly apprehensive. 

"good afternoon, professors." she said coyly. "i'm sorry professor dumbledore, i didn't realize you had company or else i would have waited. i'll wait outside."

she kept her eyes on dumbledore the whole time, hoping to covey that he needed to _get slughorn the hell out of here. now._ slughorn seemed to have other ideas, and spoke before dumbledore could even open his mouth. 

"nonsense, my dear girl," his voice boomed, and it felt like the walls shook with the vibrations of his vocal chords. "go ahead and speak, i'll wait."

dumbledore cleared his throat. "horace, perhaps it be best if you-"

"no, no, it's alright albus. just pretend i'm not here." he chuckled jovially as he stared right at the two of them. 

"ms. edwards, what is this matter you've come to discuss?" dumbledore edged, and she could read in his eyes telling her to _lie._

luckily, she was quick on her feet. the lie flowed out naturally. "sorry, professor. it's just i've gotten a letter about some of the affairs with the litigation of my parents estate. i'm not really supposed to speak about it with anyone except for my lawyer, the courts, and professor dumbl-"

slughorn stood quickly, turning entirely to face her. dumbledore had something of a proud smile on his face while he raised an eyebrow questioningly. slughorn spoke. "ah, yes i understand. merlin knows i can't stand those damned solicitors, excuse my language. we can finish out chat tomorrow albus."

and with that, slughorn left the room, closing the door with a loud _creak._

she turned her face away from the door and back toward dumbledore, who still had a smile on his face. she refrained from sitting in his chair, knowing it would still be warm from the radiating body heat of slughorns ass. 

"you know, ms. edwards," dumbledore started, banishing the half drunken teacups from his desk. "if i hadn't known that story to be untrue, i would have believed you entirely. it makes me wonder what other times you've lied to me that i have not caught."

she chuckled slightly. "no more than i lie to anyone else, mr. dumbledore."

he held out a bowl of lemon drops, offering her one. she declined. "so what is this urgent matter we have to discuss? i assume it is not a transfiguration assignment?"

at the mention of the matter they had to speak about, she turned her focus back on. "eladora ackerman and boris lancaster are spies for grindelwald."

dumbledore shot forward in his seat immediately and his expression also hardened. "how so?"

"my _source_ ," she grimaced at the word. "said that they do not know the contents of eladora ackerman's services, but they got that information firsthand from matthew abernathy. boris lancaster created and secured an illegal floo network for their allegiance. do you have a DMLE J-17 form? and a J-22?" she said rifling through her bag for a quill. the two forms appeared in front of her and she started to fill them out. the sooner she got these out, the quicker they could make the arrest. it was foolish to hope that this would be enough and they'd pull her out, but she knew this was unlikely. still, she wrote on the form. 

_circle the HIGH CRIME and/or MISDEMEANOR the accused has violated, based on the contents of your investigation: TREASON, AIDING AND ABBETTING TERRORISM, FRAUD, EMBEZZLEMENT, MISUSE OF GOVERNMENT RESOURCES OR FUNDS..._

"did you get any more information from mr. abernathy?" it was times like this when sicaria really took note of dumbledore's disdain for her methods of getting information, but she couldn't tell if he was resentful of her for it. she didn't much care though. if he was upset at her for it, he had no right to be, the filthy hypocrite. 

_does the accused work for MACUSA, another foreign wizarding government body, or a licensed contractor? circle YES or NO._

the corner of her lip quirked up as she made an amused glance up at him, continuing to scribble away on the forms. "they told be specifically not to give you any information about rouge american suspects or anything relating to american government. what was the phrase they told me to say? _i can neither confirm nor deny any questions, claims, or opinions you have expressed to me under penalty of violating the classification act of 1745._ " that was just a long winded way of saying that macusa did not trust dumbledore. 

"ah, i see. but you never were one for rule following, yes? your reputation of trusting your instincts precedes you."

_circle the method by which this information was obtained. SANCTIONED INTEROGATION, UNSANCTIONED INTERROGATION, LEGILIMENCY BY LICENCED LEGILIMENS, VERITASERUM, UNDER OATH, UNDER THREAT OF LIFE..._

she let out a full chuckle this time. "if you're going to try to manipulate me, please put some effort in, mr. dumbledore. i'm almost insulted."

he tapped his quill on the desk, eyes twinkling as he once again tried unsuccessfully to slip into her mind undetected. "let me be forward then. i'll ask a question, and you can choose whether or not to give an answer."

she looked up briefly but did not speak. 

"where is matthew abernathy?"

"europe." she mumbled. 

"anywhere specific?" he asked. 

"can't answer that," _i don't know._ she shook her head. "under fidelius."

he tapped his quill more. "anything about president picquery or harrington?"

she looked up at him, as she folded the papers and conjured an envelope. "can't answer that."

he did not speak as she sealed the forms and the abridged transcript of the interrogation to macusa. she hoped that they wouldn't ask her to obliviate davis; there would be no point, he would just relearn them the next time he was near matthew. she sealed the envelopes and was preparing to leave dumbledore's office and head to the owlery, but he asked another question. 

"did he say anything about me?" she needed to sprint to the owlery so that they could make the arrests as soon as possible, but what was the difference between now and a few minutes from now?

sicaira hesitated. he had said _a dumbledore,_ not _a. dumbledore._ "um. he said 'a dumbledore' so i'm not sure if it was you or it was relating to someone related to you."

"what was the context?"

 _to tell or not to tell._ "something about leta lestrange."

he did not ask any more questions. 


	22. xx

november 1944  
tw: brief mentions of sexual assault  
  
  


it was only a few hours later that she received the owl saying her message had been evaluated and approved. no "thank you" or "good work", not that she was expecting one. originally, she'd planned to wait for a response, or fall asleep doing so, but now she was wide awake. she wanted to take a break, and she wanted to celebrate, but she couldn't take that risk right now.

instead, she sat down on the floor of her dorm room at 1 a.m. and opened all her potions, transfigurations, and healing magic books and got started researching.

none of them held a recipe for a stimulant potion. not that she was expecting it to.

instead, she found descriptions and explanations behind the theories of how potions like that were supposed to work. she learned how they channeled her magic and redirected it into her body's central nervous system and neurons. she read about the healing magic of them, and how the magic of the potion attached to the white blood cells in her body's immune system, and gave them strength and power to heal quicker and more effectively.

her eyes glazed over an analgesic potion, but she immediately dismissed that idea. with the analgesic, there would be no repercussions, and she didn't know if she had the restraint not to get addicted to that. plus, that was the easy way out. she needed to punish herself; she had to make this a challenge.

she thought back to what the healer had said about muggle sedatives. it would be foolish to even try to get ahold of xanax, or any other muggle prescriptive drugs without physically walking into london and buying them herself, and that was entirely too risky. it would also be more difficult, because she would then have to bind all the chemicals in xanax to the magical potion. instead, she settled on using alcohol as the sedative, because there would only be three different elements she'd have to bind.

she needed to go to a bar. or "pub" as the brits called it. _what a silly word._

she scribbled and scribbled through the night, only noticing that the sun had started to rise, trying to write down every idea or theory she had in her head. it was hard, with no one to bounce ideas off of, but in the morning she'd look back upon her notes and easily sort through anything actually useful and the meaningless drivel that her half-asleep brain had come up with.

she tucked herself into bed as she made the decision. originally, she had not planned at all to go to hogsmeade, but now, she needed to. she would go down and visit the pub, and then the bookstore to pick up the muggle chemistry book and then sprint back to the castle to sort through library texts for anything useful while everyone was gone.

it was a mistake to forgo sleep in order to write.

she awakened after her two full hours of sleep until it was time to get up. she wondered how different the effects of the energy potion would be on her body when she was not on the verge of death. she got dressed for class quickly, deciding against taking the potion, and instead went through her inventory. the previous night, she made a list of the many potential ingredients she might need and found she was lacking several.

_re'em blood_

_bitter root_

_valerian_

_boomslang skin_

_essence of daisyroot (65% dilution)_

okay, so she would need to go to the bookstore, a pub, _and_ the potion supply store.

she was unnaturally distracted in her classes today, only being able to focus on her newest puzzle of putting together this potion. she realized that she was not recreating healer miranda's potion, but now completely trying to create her own.

then she began to doubt herself.

it was in potions class when she had the epiphany. slughorn was rambling on and on about the required newt potions and giving a lesson on potions with uncommon antidotes when her brain forced her to a decision.

_... but bitter root and boomslang skin have opposite reactions, so won't that cause them to cancel each other's desired effects? what if i used belladonna ..._

"... ms edwards?" slughorn called and her eyes snapped into focus.

she pushed thoughts of the potion to the back of her hand. "sorry, professor, could you repeat that?" several eyes snapped to her. she never missed a question, so what had caused this misstep?

he smiled at her as though he knew something she didn't and then asked the question again. "explain golpalott's third law in your own words, ms. edwards."

she searched through her brain. _The antidote for a blended poison will be equal to more than the sum of the antidotes for each of the separate components._

"if a poison is blended or comprised of more than one constituent, then the antidote to the blended potion will be more than than the total amount of the antidotes for the individual components." she rephrased.

" _more_ as in-?"

"as in volume, mass, and number of ingredients."

"10 points to slytherin for the quick recovery, ms. edwards," slughorn winked and beamed as a piece of chalk started drawing a diagram on the board. the class gave a slight chuckle at his acknowledgement of her lack of attention.

sicaria was prepared to turn back to her thoughts but couldn't when a riddle's voice rang in her head. _"you're distracted."_

she lifted her head and looked at him sitting two seats down from her, but his eyes were on slughorn. _am i imagining things?_

_"no. only you can hear me." he's in my head. "it's not legilimency, stop trying to force me out."_

he was talking to her without moving his lips. why? _"what's the incantation?"_

she didn't know that spells with these kinds of effects existed. _"why? so you can try to find a counter?"_

 _"i'll find one whether or not you try to keep one from me."_ the muscle in his jaw twitched, and she refocused her eyes on slughorn, who was now pointing frantically to a part of the odd diagram that was on the board.

_"i'm sure you will. now why are you distracted?"_

_"does it matter?"_

_"i wouldn't ask if i didn't want an answer, edwards."_

she shifted in her seat. _"thinking."_

 _"tell me what you're thinking about."_ he demanded. she shifted again. lie, lie, lie. deflect, deflect, deflect. 

_"no."_ ineffective.

"have the parchment ready by next class. dismissed, everyone!" the universe must've been in her favor today. she hustled out of the classroom, not looking back to riddle and pretending not to hear lestrange calling her name. she lost in a sea of students scrambling back to the dorms to get their coats and money to be the first ones out to hogsmeade. she was among them. 

•••

  
"oh hello, edwards," her head snapped to the left just as she walked into the bar. she had just left a store called _dogweed and deathcap_ where she bought all the possible ingredients she might have needed for her experimental potion (and even some she might not have needed, but she wanted to be sure). if she had seen the five of them sitting in the pub called the _three broomsticks,_ she would have found another place to buy the alcohol, but it was too late now. they'd already seen her. "how lovely to see you." nott's voice said. 

she hmphed. "wish i could say the same, nott." she glanced over to the rest of them who were smiling at her. _what were they so happy about?_ perhaps it was the fact that her insults had gone from genuine disinterest to mild playfulness. they knew it was a matter of time, and they began to get impatient. she only then realized that the privileged group of boys she'd befriended were not used to getting what they wanted. she nodded in recognition at the rest of them. "lestrange, rosier, malfoy." she hesitated. "riddle."

they all nodded in response, but before any of them could get a word out, she hurried up to the counter. 

"hi," she greeted the barmaid.

"'ello darlin'," the older woman smiled at her. "what can i get for ya?"

"er, what's the highest potency vodka you've got?"

the barmaid smiled warmly at her, like she knew something sicaria didn't. "80% vodka, but a 60% gin might be a bit healthier, darlin.' or even a 75% whiskey." she smiled at the older woman. 

"could i just get the bottle of the vodka? smallest one you have?" she asked, and blinked when the woman laughed at her. 

"sure, hon," she turned around and used her wand to summon an unopened glass quart off of the shelves. she turned back to her and took the sickles from sicaria's hand. "i pity your poor liver. promise me you wont drink that all by yourself."

sicaria gave a chuckle. "of course not. thank you." she said as the woman placed the pint in her hand. it had dust collected on it, and the liquid was perfectly clear. the words on it were in russian. she smiled charmingly at the woman. 

she tried to hurry out the door, but before she was even halfway there, she was stopped. of course, they were waiting on her. 

"big bottle there, isn't it, edwards?" malfoy drawled as she passed them. she raised a brow at his teasing. she much preferred his approach to fixing their friendship. that approach being titled the _"Pretend Nothing Happened and Carry On as Usual"_ method. "what for?"

she gave a small smirk. "i'm an alcoholic." her walk continued out the pub as she heard their cheerful laughter, as if she was joking. riddle didn't laugh, only continued to stare pointedly at her. they didn't realize how close to the truth her offhand statement was.

"i was calling you when we left potions," lestrange said, setting down his glass of whatever was making him hiccup. "did you not hear me?"

"no, of course not. why on earth would i ignore my friend trying so desperately to speak to me?" they laughed at her ridiculing tone and she shot them a smile and continued on her way out the door. 

"wait!" rosier called. she turned back around this time, reluctantly. "fancy a drink with us?" he tilted his glass at her.

she smiled sweetly. "no. have a lovely afternoon!"

"perhaps you'd like to join us then, doll!" and just like that, the playful smirk she had adorned became a full fledged scowl. her body language shifted. she turned her eyes to the group of seven boys, all crowded together in a booth behind her, grinning wildly. "a witch shouldn't have to get drunk on her own. we'll keep you company."

_gross!_

she met the eyes of the boy speaking, and sank into his head. she sifted through the unorganized junkpile he called a mind and caught his drunken train of thought, gross imagination running wildly at the idea of being near a drunk sicaria. wondering if in this state he'd be strong enough to overpower her. wondering if she was drunk enough, she wouldn't need any convincing. wondering if the rest of the boys would want a turn with her, but he would make sure he'd be first. thinking that someone "as pretty as her" couldn't possible be a virgin. _don't hurt his mind, don't out yourself as a legilimens._ she pulled out of his mind, and once again, no time had passed. "i'll have to also decline that _offer_."

these kinds of thoughts were somewhat desensitized to her. plenty of times there had been men expressly thinking about how badly they wanted to sleep with her. most were consensual, but _plenty_ were not. instead of coping healthily, she turned it into a game. it was a roll of the dice to see if a) they were actually listening to her, b) they wanted to take her out, or c) they wanted to take her out _whether she wanted to or not._ she laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was easier to deal with that way.   
  
apparently, lestrange failed to stifle a laugh, because another voice from the party of seven yelled out. this one was wearing a yellow tie, and she recognized him from her care of magical creatures class. "something funny, _lestrange_?"

he smiled into his glass. "only that you thought she'd say yes to you after she said no to us."

another person from the table sneered. "maybe she's finally figured you all out. just a bunch of _snakes,_ isn't that right tremblay?"

the boy called tremblay stood, seemingly more sober, but more hostile than the rest. _resolve this. calm them down._ "yeah and a bunch of wimp's, too. that's why they lost her, and they'll lose the quidditch match next week." he jabbed his thumb in her direction.

 _why are they talking about me as if i'm not here?_ sicaria wondered if the townspeople hated when the students came to town. hogsmeade was such a beautiful village; shame her memory of it would be tainted by the Male Ego. 

"interesting enough, _you_ never had her, unlike us," she shot malfoy a withering glare, but his gaze was not focused on her. _don't refer to me as an object._

"and you'll lose the match next week just like you've lost every other match this year." rosier chimed in.

another gryffindor joined the hufflepuff in standing, and this caused something of a chain reaction. 

first, a yell. "is that why you broke your arm and cried like a bitch at the match last year?"

then, rosier and lestrange stood. "my arm got broken because _richardson_ over there is a dirty cheat. and somehow you _still_ lost, even with one player down." all the boys at the other table weren't even on the same quidditch team.

next, five of the seven were standing. she moved forward slightly, as some of the patrons in the bar started to take notice of the commotion. luckily, it was still loud enough that they hadn't caught the attention of the owners yet. "let's place a little _bet_ on it then." the boy called richardson drawled. she noticed a few gryffindor fourth-years from a table nearby giggled at the sound of his voice. 

"i'd love to. how much?" now malfoy was standing too. she sent riddle a look, one that said _why aren't you fixing this?_ he only stared back and sipped the beige liquid in his glass. _useless._

the original boy who'd catcalled her grinned at richardson and shook his head. "you can't throw daddy's money at everything, malfoy."

"if you're poor, just say th-"

"her." out of the corner of her eye, she saw nott stand, and riddle lean away from the table.

 _what._ "what?" lestrange's face looked genuinely confused.

"you heard me. we win the quidditch match, and you'll make her come out on a date with us." _ah, so this was something they'd planned out._

 _make me? anyways._ she laughed manically. 

"she's a _woman,_ not a bloody trophy!" rosier yelled, taking a step closer. his words were a bit jumbled though, because lestrange and malfoy both said "how dare you?" at the same time. nott's hand was placed strategically on the table, ready to grab his wand at a moment's notice.

"why so tense, rosier? afraid you lose the match and-"

she needed to cut this right here before she got too angry to keep a level head. "all of you, that's enough!" _calm down, don't yell._ she shouted.

"i know you boss them around, but listen here, sweetheart, we don't answer to-" she cut him off by waving her wandless hand, forcing them all back down into their chairs with hard thuds. the liquid from their glasses sloshed up as they tried to move their arms to scramble for their wands. mysteriously, their hands were also unable to move. _i shouldn't have done that._

in her training on tension diffusion, it was typically in situations that were life or death, or at least ones where someone was trying to cause harm to her. instead, she was preventing a bar brawl of a bunch of drunk, hormonal teenagers. her training was not as through as she originally thought, and adjusted it accordingly. _why am i playing mother to a bunch of teenagers?_

malfoy, lestrange, and rosier started to laugh, but she turned quickly, pointing her other finger at them. "shut up and sit down." they obliged, malfoy slower than the rest, but did not hide the triumphant grins. "i thought you'd be smart enough not to be goaded into a bar fight like a bunch of idiots." then, the group of seven boys laughed. the strain on her left arm from holding the spell that kept them sitting was starting to waver. 

"forgive me, sweetheart, i just-" the same boy who first spoke, but she didn't let him get another word out.

"for god's sake, _stop fucking talking_." she didn't mean to swear, but it was out before she could stop herself. she needed to go, before she really made a mistake. she lifted the spell and all their bodies shifted slightly. hands darted to wands quickly. 

lestrange hissed through his teeth. "pull your wand on her, i dare you. i'll show you just how fast-"

he knew she could best everyone in this bar at once if she wanted to, but the thought was still nice. she didn't have time to dwell on it. 

they looked like they were about to start yelling again, so she spoke before the opportunity arose. "i pray for the future of the world if _this_ is going to be who enters it. you're all adults, start acting like it." _adults._ such a funny word. "grow the hell up."

she was out of the bar before she heard the yelling resume. it was the shopkeeper's problem now, not hers.

_why am i babysitting to a bunch of near-adults?_

the bookshop called _tomes and scrolls_ had the exact opposite atmosphere of the bar. it was dead empty in here, and the only sound was the bookkeeper who gave a small "yoo-hoo!" when she entered. it was a large store, with twenty foot high shelves all sorted into an intricate maze of rows. she found her way to the section she was looking for; muggle texts. 

once again, her astonishment of the ignorance of wizards to non-magic people arose. they hadn't bothered to sort the fiction from the nonfiction, and the books were not sorted by genre or topic. the only guide she had was that they were in alphabetical order. the first chemistry book she found had been placed near _a christmas carol,_ by _charles dickens._ she opened the pages, but the information was too specific. she needed the basics about the periodic table and reactive nonmetals' elemental structures, not how to dissolve the electron shell of an f-block lanthanoid. she moved down the aisle to try to find something more rudimentary. 

"using magic against another student in a hostile situation is against the rules, whether in school or out." _for fuck's sake, leave me alone._

she closed the book in her hand but did not turn around to face riddle. "take points then, i don't care."

"why intervene?" he asked, referring back to the earlier scene in the bar. he was near her, she could hear his voice and smell his cologne, but didn't feel the heat radiating from him. that was good. she could keep a clear head if he kept his distance. 

her eyes snapped to a book on the shelf a bit higher, and she pulled it down toward her. "aren't you head boy? isn't breaking up hostile situations part of your job?"

" _look at me when you speak to me,_ " his voice was icy, and she turned around, if not only for suspicion. her eyes narrowed and his normal tone returned."i wanted to see how you'd handle it."

"why?"

"pieces of the puzzle," he deadpanned. "show me what you're reading."

she held the book at an angle where he wouldn't be able to see the title. why? it's not like it mattered if he knew what she was searching for, but just the fact he had demanded it of her made her not want to give it to him. "why?"

he made a step toward her. "typically when i ask things of people, they oblige without protest. you don't, oddly enough."

she fought the urge to step back into the bookcase. "you didn't ask."

he took another step, closing in on her. _fuck, fuck, fuck._ riddle was increasingly unpredictable, which was a trait that sicaria did not admire when trying to control a situation. "i didn't?"

"no, you-" she ducked when his hand came up and struck the bookshelf just to the left of her head. _was he going to punch me?_ he would have missed whether or not she moved; he just wanted to see her flinch.

he laughed at her reaction, slowly drawing his hand from the bookshelf, trailing down to her shoulder. "do i make you nervous, edwards?"

"not particularly." _lie or truth? is this nervousness?_

"another lie. it's interesting seeing it, learning all your tells." his hand slid down her upper arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. she took a step back, bumping against the bookcase.

"my tells?"she struggled to conceal a smirk. she didn't have any tells. "and what might those be?"

"why would i tell you? so you can try to figure out how to cover them?" his hand traced up her forearm. _don't shiver, don't shiver, don't- fuck._ her arm shifted slightly, and that was enough for him to feel triumphant once again. "what are you reading?"

 _deflect._ "what are their names?"

he hesitated slightly before answering her question, knowing she was trying to avert his focus. "why?"

she rolled her eyes. "does it matter? i want their names."

his hand trailed threateningly across her collar bone. _don't move._ "this seems to happen often, so let me say this quite plainly. i don't ask questions just for the sake of it. if i ask something, it matters. so let's try again. why do you want their names?"

"i can easily ask any of the other four."

there were only inches between them. "yet if i tell them not to tell you, they wont." he was making her play the game his way. 

"do you find enjoyment in making every situation as uncomfortable and difficult as possible?"

 _for you, yes._ "are you not comfortable, edwards?" his eyes had not left hers, and she couldn't remember if she'd seen his dark eyelashes blink once. he was pristine and perfect, almost inhumanly so. 

"don't deflect, i asked a question." his hand had just hit the base of her neck when she finally reacted. her hand shot up quickly, closing around his wrist to stop him moving any further. his eyes flashed. _so that's her limit._

"so did i."

"you are truly insufferable." she realized her error. she should have stopped him from touching her the second he tried instead of letting him toe the line. she was giving him information she didn't want him to have. he was _winning._

there was a silence that lasted only for a moment. _when will my brain start working again?_

"are you a legilimens?" he hoped it would catch her off guard.

"no." no elaboration, no background, no excess information. just a straightforward lie. he searched her eyes. 

it was a convincing lie. so convincing that he almost believed her. 

"liar." _damn it._ "perhaps that _chemistry book_ is why you were so distracted in potions today." the dismissive tone of his voice was so patronizing that it made her want to seriously injure him. 

he was bragging. he won. 

riddle gave her the same charming smile that he flashed to all the teachers, except to her, it felt more mocking and manipulative. he dropped his arm, forcing her to release his wrist as he turned away from her and walked out of the store. she didn't move until she saw the door close behind him. she wiped her hand over her eye and sighed. _you said no more slip ups._

"fuck."


	23. xxi

november 1944  
tw: very brief mention of suicide

_ACCUSED GRINDELWALD SPY FOUND DEAD BY SUICIDE IN HIS HOME_

_By Daniela Dryden, Special Correspondent_

_Ministry of Magic was in for a shocker when Boris Lancaster, Department of Magical Transportation official, was found dead in his home by Aurors serving an arrest warrant. The details of the warrant are still not public information, but there have been speculations that Lancaster was in league with the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald._

_Aurors Fischer and Grimsditch arrived at Lancaster's London flat at approximately 10 p.m. yesterday evening. Upon their arrival, they forced their way into his flat and found Lancaster's and his house elf dead on the sitting room floor. Aurors believe that Lancaster killed his house elf by the killing curse, used his wand to carve the emblematic phrase "FOR THE GREATER GOOD" into the wall, snapped his wand, and then slit his throat._

sicaira swallowed as her eyes darted across the newspaper. he had known they were coming to arrest him before they arrived, which meant that there were more spies within the ministry. the article didn't cite a time of death, so depending on how long his body had been there, it was also plausible that someone in _macusa_ had gotten hold of the warrant before it was sent off to england. there was a spy somewhere in the chain of command, and she didn't know where. it was times like this where she thanked merlin that her documents on missions were signed with codes and not her name. she continued reading. 

_The investigation into Lancaster's affairs will still continue on, and those who worked closely with him will be brought in for testimony and interrogation as well. His department will be thoroughly investigated for an other evidence of espionage or corruption. Because Lancasters' wand was snapped, investigators cannot have any insight into what his last or most frequent spells were._

_The Auror office refused to comment on the investigation process, nor how they came about this information on Lancaster. His wife (45) and son (20) have both been taken into Ministry custody while pending interrogation._

she turned the page of the newspaper as she stored the information in her head, along with the questions she had. _how did the aurors know it was suicide and not murder? why did the ministry only send two? why snap his wand? why kill the house elf? why is his family in custody? why is there no mention that if it was suicide, the someone had to have forewarned him?_

_The failure of the Ministry to identify those spies in their offices has shot down the confidence of the public in their government. Many chalk this mishandling up to former Minister Hector Fawley's catastrophic attempts at ignoring the crisis altogether. Fawley's blunder allowed for domestic terrorism to fester under the surface of the Ministry, leading to mistrust from the public._

she glanced up and made brief eye contact with dumbledore, sitting at the teachers table. he gave her something of a small celebratory nod. she looked down quickly, suddenly feeling sick. this was not something she wanted to be remembered for.

_Both the Head of the Department of Transportation and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have declined to comment. Aurors Fischer and Grimsditchs' secretaries told Prophet reporters that they were also unavailable for comment. The Press Resources Division has announced that an upcoming press release will occur on Saturday, November-_

"er, hi edwards." 

she startled and looked up from the newspaper quickly. she recovered her shock by quirking a brow at him. "hello rosier." this incendiary bullshit they called an article was not good for her anxiety, already making her paranoid of normal situations. 

he cleared his throat nervously and she took a sip of her coffee. "how are you?"

"that's not what you came to ask me," she said in a sing-song voice. 

he fought off rolling his eyes and instead settled for a timid expression "i- well er, everyone actually, they wanted to know um if you planned on returning to sit with us." 

she sipped her coffee again and eyed his pseudo-nervous stature before evaluating him verbally. "do you think i'm going to yell at you or something? is that why you're acting so _nervous_?" she hadn't been sitting with them since the incident, though it had been almost two weeks ago. she was supposed to still be angry, but she missed their company too much to do so. 

still, she had to put up a fight so they'd know not to try anything like this again. riddle was right when he said she was punishing herself to punish them all, but all of them deserved it.

he stammered some more, and she made a quick glance down the table and saw malfoy, nott, and lestrange all quickly avert their gazes. it seemed as though riddle hadn't been paying any attention at all, his gaze was _elsewhere,_ but she didn't miss the smirk he tried to hide with his cup. her eyes snapped back to rosier. 

"i must say, _adonis_ ," she set down her mug and her tone turned to amused and mocking. "this whole _'i'm so terrified of her'_ act does not suit you at all."

"i beg your pardon?" indignation felt unnatural on his easygoing features. 

"don't play dumb. what bet did you lose to have to be the one to come ask me?" 

he unclasped his hands from behind his back in exasperation. _of course she wouldn't make this easy._ "come on, i know you aren't still upset about that _situation._ "

"i'm not?" she asked. 

he narrowed his eyes at her. "are you?"

"no, of course not." she smiled watching the mixture of irritation and amusement flash throughout his features. 

he groaned, but the ghost of a smile was present on his face. she was joking with him. "you're impossible, you know that? look they, _we,_ all want you to come back, and you haven't hexed me yet so i assume we're as forgiven as we'll ever be. what else do you want? someone to beg?"

her mind whirled and she split into a grin. "make malfoy ask me."

she knew he never would. 

"he never will." rosier responded. 

she smiled wider, if possible. "that's the beauty of it, isn't it? you're all _tortured_ by the lack of my company, and you'll despise malfoy for having too much pride to ask. you're all so easy to manipulate."

his eyes narrow. "you are just like ri-" but he cut himself off before he could finish. 

it's too late though. they both knew what he was going to say. _you are just like riddle._

her mood was sufficiently dampened, and she cleared her throat to rid them of the awkward silence. "i admit it has been fun watching you pretend to cower at my glare, but i must be going now."

"where are you off to?" he asked, hoping it wasn't him that had caused her immediate departure.

"i have to talk to professor silva."

"about wh-"

another voice interrupted. "edwards." _jesus fucking christ._

"davies." _roger davies iv._ of course he'd have no regard for her ongoing conversation. davies was never the most respectful.

"you're probably wondering what i've come to ask of you-" he walked up and stood in front of her, and her former (not for long) slytherin companions were now staring/glaring unashamed. rosier took a slight step nearer to her. 

"yes, mate we're all on the edge of our seats," rosier jeered. 

davies brushed it off. "i _assure_ it's not the same intentions the other blokes have asked of you."

"really?" she said, gathering her bag on her shoulder. "surprise me then." _of all people,_ she thought. _davies?_ she would have thought that _malfoy_ would pursue her before davies. davies who always treated her as a person, but was generally unpleasant to be around. davies who reminded sicaria of herself, but much less manipulative and slightly less intelligent. davies who sicaria swore was-

"madam glinda has the books you requested from the library," _oh that's definitely a surprise._ " _botanique médicinale et venimeuse_ and she said the other one just got transferred from the library of versailles. something called _recueil juridique des_ -" he was talking loudly. _too_ loudly. loud enough that they had heard. 

"stop talking," she shot up quickly and he scoffed at her demand. "that's enough. does she have it now?"

he nodded, amused at her abrupt change in demeanor. "i take it you're surprised, then." she scowled at him.

"shut up," she said, and then turned back toward rosier and saw the rest of them over his shoulder, all of whom were not bothering to hide their stares she waved at them mockingly. "see you around, rosier. or hopefully, i won't."

"you do know you're only evading us because we _let_ you, right?" he called after her while she walked away with davies in tow, though he was supposed to be escorting her. she did not turn back at the statement, but stored it in the back of her head for a later time.

back at the table, they looked at rosier expectantly as he returned and sat down. "she didn't give a direct answer."

"yeah we heard," malfoy deadpanned. "i'm not asking her."

lestrange rolled his eyes. "you're _so fucking predictable_ , you-"

"never mind that. what did davies want?" riddle interrupted, though they had all heard her conversation with davies. 

they looked at rosier expectantly, him being the only one who knew french. " _botanique médicinale et venimeuse_ is medicinal and venomous plants, so that's a herbology book. _recueil juridique_ , means legal collection. a french book of laws?"

"didn't she say she was going to see silva?" nott asked. 

rosier nodded. "you think that's what it's for?"

"maybe, but if she got the book, then why go to silva?"

"we don't _actually_ know what silva wanted from her."

"or what she wanted from silva?" riddle said.

they were all silent for a moment, knowing that this speculation would get them nowhere. none of them had any clue as to what the legal book could be for. "also, she hates being compared to you." rosier said as he pointed his fork in riddles direction.

"is that so?" riddle raised an eyebrow at him. 

nott spoke up once. "yeah, i noticed that too. she seemed to take it as an insult."

"any reason as to why?" 

malfoy grumbled. "i can think of a few." lestrange shushed him. 

rosier grinned sheepishly. "well mine was in the context of calling her manipulative."

"so was mine." nott said. 

riddle raised an eyebrow. "so i'm manipulative, huh?"

lestrange snorted. "yeah and you take pride in it, don't you?"

riddle did not deny it. "take pride in the things you're good at."

•••

the grounds of hogwarts were freezing as sicaria took the long journey out of the castle toward the greenhouses, where professor silva never seemed to leave. she could've easily cast a warming charm on herself, but she thought that the biting cold made her feel much more alert. she entered greenhouse five and saw the professor laying face down on her desk as several pairs of knives, gloves, and pots sorted themselves all around the room. "morning, professor."

silva still laid face down, not looking up to address her student. "to what do i owe the pleasure?"

"i've come to ask a favor of you, professor."

her voice was muffled into the wood of the desk. "i don't sell bubotuber puss to students."

bubotuber puss was a common fix for students self conscious about their acne. "that's not what i'm here for."

"go on, then." the knives and pots dropped in their spots with a clatter.

 _how to go about this?_ "well first, do you have any belladonna flowers and valerian root?"

"if i do?" she rolled over off her desk, now staring at the glass roof of the greenhouse. she rolled off the edge, but still continued to float four feet off the ground. her black hair was long enough that it dragged on the ground, even with the height at which she was levitating.

"i'd like to buy some from you."

"what for?"

"a potion, professor." this was one of the lies she rehearsed over and over, knowing that it was a likely question to be asked. 

"what potion uses belladonna and valerian?" she stared at the sky as her body spun around in slow circles. it gave sicaria the feeling of talking to an intolerant seven-year-old. "actually, do not answer that. i don't want to know. how much do you need?"

"two belladonna flowers and and 50 milliliters of powdered valerian root."

"hm." she said. 

silva didn't speak for almost a full minute. sicaria spoke instead. "um professor-"

"i have to harvest chinese chomping cabbages tonight."

"oh?" _is she on drugs?_

"yes," she hummed, now juggling several silver knives with her wand in the air. sicaria stepped back a few inches. "help me harvest them, and i'll let you have what you need."

"i'd love to! what time do you need me here?" _i wouldn't love to._

"9. greenhouse 4. don't be late. feel free to leave now, your aura is disrupting the aglaophotis."

through the whole interaction, silva did not make eye contact with sicaria. she didn't take it personally though, instead choosing to push the door open and roll her eyes at her conduct. the woman was a brilliant herbologist and professor, but she had the general demeanor of an infant with brain damage. 

still, she could not complain. she would now have all the ingredients she needed for the potion. unfortunately, another quarry had been plaguing her thoughts. 

she wrote up the procedure for the experiment she called a potion. while doing so, she couldn't help but feel like she might be missing or messing up things along the way. though there was no ones intellect she trusted more than her own, she had no problems admitting that she didn't know everything, and therefore could use the help of another person. she thought about asking lestrange or rosier to help her because they'd definitely oblige, but though they were good potion makers, the theory behind it was on a bit higher level. 

she didn't even entertain the idea of asking slughorn or healer miranda for help. slughorn would ask too many questions, and the healer would certainly know what she was doing. 

sicaria then resorted to false confidence, thinking that she trusted her instincts. 

but still, that tidbit of doubt still nagged her. 

in the back of her mind, she knew she'd have to ask riddle for help. he was the only other plausible candidate at this school who had both the proficiency to help her, and the possibility of him assisting her. the problem is that he would definitely ask a lot of questions, and because of that, she'd have to come up with many convincing lies. lies that he'd be able to see through. and then there was the point that if he helped her, he'd have an advantage over her; she'd be indebted to him. 

_you aren't brewing it today, just worry about it later._

•••

"you leave the common room late everyday." firstly, it wasn't that late, only 8:45. secondly, why is it that they're _always_ in the common room, and they're _always_ looking for her?

"tracking my movements? am i on some sort of watchlist?" _oh you have no idea,_ rosier thought. 

he smirked at her, and nudged lestrange who had started to fall asleep. "perhaps i'm just observant."

she snorted derisively. "interesting observation, then."

she took a step nearer to them and then stiffened slightly. she eyed them warily before blanking herself, but they had seen her hesitation. "what's wrong?" rosier demanded.

she waved her hand indifferently. "nothing important."

"liar. it involves us, does it not?" riddle said, carefully reading her eyes as she thought. 

she sighed in irritation, lowering her voice. "i can feel the dark magic surrounding all of you. you've done some sort of ritual, i can tell, and the feeling of it was just overwhelming. that's all."

nott cleared his throat indifferently, stealing an unnoticeably quick glance at riddle. "it isn't as though-"

"i'm not judging," she cut him off firmly. "and i don't want to know. 

there was a beat of silence. she glanced down at her watch and inched closer to the door.

"care to share where you're off to?" malfoy said as she took another step toward the door. he was always excellent at making awkward conversations feel return normal. _can't they take a hint?_

there was no reason to lie. "greenhouse 4. i'm helping professor silva with a harvest." 

" _why_?" _everyone_ hated silva. it was just an unspoken rule.

"because she asked me to."

"you're doing something out of the kindness of your heart? for nothing in return?" lestrange chuckled. "forgive me if that seems unlikely."

"who said i was getting nothing in return?" 

"what _are_ you getting?" rosier asked, leaning back on the couch, stretching his arms across it. 

"does it matter?" she chided, but she eyed their pseudo-omniscient expressions and rolled her eyes. "you think i'm lying."

"silva hates everyone and all of a sudden she's asking to spend time with you? seems unlikely."

"perhaps it's my charming personality," she said to a chorus of unconvinced snorts. she could see slight signs of magical exhaustion on them physically as the dark magic aura continued to pulsed around them. whatever the ritual was, it was powerful. "by all means, tag along if you think i'm being untruthful."

riddle shot a millisecond glance at lestrange, who caught it and immediately stood up. they all seemed to have some sort of unspoken communication that they all understood. they thought she was bluffing, so they called her on it. "lead the way then." he said cheerily.

"i was being facetious."

he smiled and linked their arms. "no, no. you don't get to back out now."

"are we even friends, lestrange?"

he dragged her to the dungeon door. "you know damn well we are. you're evading us because we _let_ you."

"and what does that mean?"

he only smirked at her as they entered the hallway. he didn't give an answer.

•••

"i wasn't aware you were bringing an audience." when the pair entered the greenhouse, silva had her wand between her teeth, and was holding several sparing knives between her knuckles to imitate a wild animal.

"nor was i," sicaria deadpanned. "i didn't realize that he'd take my jest as a serious offer."

"evening, professor," he said easily. "it's a pleasure to se-"

"run along, lestrange." she said airily, waving her knived hand at him, and a gust of wind seemed to shoot from it, pushing him toward the door. two of the knives clattered to the floor. sicaria snickered and waved as he looked astonished as he closed the greenhouse door behind him, staring through the glass for a second before hiking back up to the castle. "always liked lestrange, i have."

 _funny way of showing it._ then again, who was sicaria to talk?

•••

the following morning at breakfast, she was once again sitting alone reading the newspaper when noises all around her made her jump. 

she dropped the paper. when the five of them came in, instead of sitting at their normal place at the table, they sat surrounding her. the sensation of dark magic had dulled around them. she didn't even know what to make of it as her five (four and a half) friends sat around her, essentially trapping her unless she wanted to make a scene. it surprised the life out of her as she blanked, confused as rosier sat on her left and riddle sat on her right. 

_you evade us because we let you._

"what are you doing?" she said after a moment of them pretending that nothing was out of the ordinary. 

lestrange shrugged, running a buttered knife over his toast. "enjoying breakfast. you?"

such a simple solution. why hadn't she planned for this?

"not happy to see us?" she didn't respond to malfoy's taunt.

she couldn't stand and walk away now. that would be admitting defeat, and also causing another scene for the school to gossip about, and that was the last thing she needed right now. her only plan was to try and be as unpleasant as possible, but she knew it would only look like she was throwing a temper tantrum. her resignation must have show on her face, because four of them fought losing battles to conceal their triumphant grins.

"don't look so surprised, edwards." riddle whispered into her ear and she remained perfectly still, wondering how she'd lost again, for the third time in three days. 

of course, she had wanted to go back, and was planning on doing so, but she wanted it to be on her terms. 

the choice was taken from her, but it played right into her hands. 

she looked down at her plate, stabbing at her eggs to hide her proud smirk. 


	24. xxii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still in the process of transferring all the completed chapters over from wattpad, but once those are out, i usually have an update schedule of at least five chapters per week.

december 1944

"what is the name of the bank your father works with for gellert grindelwald?"

"banque fidele de marseilles." apollo beischel replied. the red-haired boy's voice did not match his appearance at all. he looked boyish and childlike, but he had the voice of a man who had been through hell. he spoke coolly, but there was always a small hint of condescension. the veritaserum had not managed to rid his voice of the strong personality that forced it's way into the words.

"who has access to this bank?" sicaria said tapping her wand against her thigh. the interrogations had started to get repetitive and boring, but occasionally, she'd have an interesting breakthrough like this one. normally on missions, they'd be a few weeks or less, but in this one, they'd given her no set time limit, and everyday she was starting to suspect that they planned on leaving her here for the whole year.

"grindelwald. his supporters, sympathizers, and the people he works with. most of the smarter ones use intermediaries so that they don't have any strings attached if the whole thing goes to shit."

"what kind of bank is it?" the book of french laws she had gotten from madam glinda sat in her lap as she interrogated the boy sitting before her. he fiddled with his wrist.

"more of a trading post than a bank, but they do hold vaults for important items. mostly, it's people sending their money into the bank, but then it goes through a global system. some go to lisbon then tokyo then back to london. others go paris to milan back to london."

she couldn't fight back a laugh. he'd just perfectly described money laundering, and where there was money laundering, there was tax evasion. 

"do all patrons know of the bank's connection to grindelwald?"

"yes. you have to have some sort of connection to even be let under the fidelus."

terrorism financing. check.

she made a _whoosh_ motion with her hand and the book flipped through its own pages. she read over the juxtaposition of her rushed english scrawl in the margins to the tidy legislative text on the page. 

"does this bank provide or take loans?" she said as she read over a small passage about usurious practices. 

"yes." 

"do you know any of the interest rates?"

"they're less loans and more like debts and favors. i don't know if that happens in all the cases though." _extortion?_

"when did you first visit this bank?"

"1942. it opened in 1939." _over five years of usage? racketeering: check._

"do you know what felony embezzlement is?"

"yes."

"have you seen and can describe any instances of embezzlement from your time in banque fidele de marseilles?"

"it has likely occurred but i cannot describe it."

"is banque fidele de marseilles a ponzi scheme?"

"no." 

"how many people know about this bank?" sicarias brow furrowed as she thought about how she had caused so many more breakthroughs in her three months of being here than macusa had done in a while. 

at the same time, she hated herself. she hated that she was breaking international law, and that she was exploiting teenagers, and that she was doing this all to save her own ass. but at the same time, she hated that she'd do it again, and again, and again, as long as it meant that on christmas day of 1945, she'd be free. she had turned into everything she hated about bureaucracy. she forced herself not to feel guilty about her situation, and instead placed the blame, and subsequently her resentment, on the face of Government Official.

"hundreds i assume. i always see plenty of people there when i go, but everyone hides their faces. masks, transfiguration, etcetera."

"how often do you go?"

"weekly over the summer, but none during the year."

she sighed, stealing a glance over at the hourglass that was quickly running out of sand. all this information she'd stolen would be useless to the prosecutors and aurors if she didn't know how to lead them to it.

"where is this bank?"

"it's located under opera de marseilles. in the first arrondissement." 

sicaria was taken aback. she only asked as a shot in the dark. "why isn't it under fidelius?" it was almost suspicious. 

"it was. i guess the secret-keeper died."

"who was the secret-keeper?"

"i do not know." _hm._

"was there any sort of feeling or indication that the fidelius broke?"

"no."

"why do you choose to visit the bank with your father so often?"

"experience. every man needs a lawyer. the guilty need them more than the innocent."

"you do realize that grindelwald will never get out of prison if he's defeated, right?"

apollo only shrugged. "until that day comes, i'll bleed him for every cent he's got."

"your father was a lawyer?"

"yes. he was who made sure that if the bank were to be discovered, many of the richer investors would be protected."

"who are these richer investors?"

"no idea." he said, but she hadn't realized that the time had run out. there was no way of knowing whether or not that was the truth. 

•••

  
  
"what's in the letter?" sicaria jumped at the sound of abraxas malfoy in the doorway of the owlery. she had the suspicion that he'd been disillusioned moments before. she tucked the envelope behind her slightly to avoid him seeing _alessandria goldenberg_ scribbled on it.

"nosy, aren't we?" _just lie, lie, lie._ "a message to my lawyer about settling my parents estate." sicaria remembered that this was the same lie she'd told slughorn a few days ago.

 _all i ever seem to fucking do is lie._ there was no time to feel guilty.

"you're their only child right? how is it that everything isn't left in your name?" he took a step closer, and she whispered the address to the owl before sending it off. 

she turned back to him and smiled wryly. "they left a lot of... _prerequisites_. i can try to get around some of them, but there are several things they expect me to do before i get ahold of my entire inheritance." _true._

"what kind of prerequisites?" he asked, and she exited the doorway of the owlery, him walking right next to her. _idiot_. he hadn't sent a letter.

"i can't access any of it, under any circumstances until it's been a year post death-" she didn't know why she was telling him this.

_half-lie. it was actually until the macusa contract was up. december 25, 1945._

"-i get a third of it immediately when/if i get married-" he grasped her arm as she slipped slightly on the steps. the wind was punishing and the frigid rain made everything cold, dark, and slippery.

_true._

"-or i turn 21, whichever came first."

_true. it was meant to give her an incentive to get married early._

"for the last two thirds, i need to work at least three different jobs-"

_true._

"-graduate-"

_true._

"- then clear out everything and sell their house-" 

_true._

"- and complete all of these before five years has passed since their deaths, or else their assets get dissolved and donated to the american department of magical law enforcement."

_true._

"then once i get all the inheritance, they _politely_ suggested that i liquidate all their assets."

_true, but she would have done that whether they wanted her to or not._

he looked both stunned and horrified. "and this is legal?"

she chuckled darkly. "they had me negotiate the terms when i was 11. my signature's on the paper."

"did the solicitor get around any of the prerequisites?"

"well, i still have to graduate, sell the house, but i only have to wait until i'm nineteen."

in fact, she had finished all their silly little tasks already. all she was waiting on was december 25, 1945, and all the inheritance and assets would be hers. of course, she'd immediately liquidate them and run off to paris or los angeles or london or maybe even back to new york. it didn't matter; she could go anywhere she felt like. 

"but what if you had wanted to keep the house though? just for the sake of-"

"i burned it down and sold the land." they reached the bottom of the staircase and descended into the crowd of students walking toward the great hall.

"what?"

she shrugged. "they knew i wouldn't want it."

"but why burn it down?"

"it was symbolic."

"it was a temper tantrum." he scoffed, running a hand through his blonde hair which made droplets of water fall around them. she cast a drying charm on herself.

"it was around the time that their will was read. i was mad and i didn't want to do any of their bullshit quests."

"well, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to to get the results we want. sacrifices and whatnot." he was being patronizing and insincere, but his statement actually did help her make a decision. 

she nodded absent mindedly. malfoy didn't realize just how correct he was.  
  
  


•••

"where's riddle?" she asked the four four boys who sat in the common room. after dinner, they had all split up, her just now returning to the common room from silva's greenhouse. she had done all she needed to get the plants she wanted for the potion, but silva had passive-aggressively asked for her help with another plant project. perhaps the miserable bitch just wanted a bit of company.

"you _want_ to speak to riddle?" lestrange asked incredulously.

"doesn't matter what i want to do, does it? i need to speak to him." she said, her tone laced with irritation. she shot a pointed look at malfoy, who narrowed his in trepidation. 

nott eyed her warily. "library."

"i hope you return alive!" rosier called after her. he yelped a second later at the slight stinging sensation sicaria had sent his way with a lazy flick of her wand.

the hogwarts library was truly an unappreciated gem. it was massive, the size of a large house in total. it was separated into two big sections and two small ones. fiction, nonfiction, restricted, and nonmagic. it's easy to guess which was the smallest. there were student library aides and hogwarts elves roaming slowly and levitating books into their positions, but because the library was so large, it was rare bumping into them. the ceilings were high, and the shelves had books stacked up high enough that _no one_ could possibly be able to reach them without a summoning charm. where the walls weren't also shelved with books, there were paintings and busts, all of which were authors who loved to discuss the topics and encourage students to check out their books. some even argued back once their theories had been proven outdated. all in all, it was inconceivably vast and somewhat overwhelming. 

it was so large, that she couldn't help but think that fate was on her side when she all but stumbled upon riddle in a back aisle.

_how lucky. or unlucky._

she stood at the end of the aisle where she looked down at him, skimming through a book of which she could not see the title. she was almost considering leaving. _i'll just do it myself. i'm sure i'll be fine and if not, i'm sure someo-_

"don't stall, edwards, it's unbecoming. what do you want?" he did not look up from the book, but seemed to have been watching her struggle internally. 

she sighed and shifted her weight from her left foot to her right as a book flew past her ear. "i came to ask a favor of you," the lack of enthusiasm in her tone was palpable.

he was immediately excited by the thought of her being in debt to him, but his suspicion eclipsed it instantly. "i'm listening."

"i ne- i'd _like_ your help brewing a potion." she cursed herself for messing up. stumbling over words was a clear sign of lack of confidence; something she had been thoroughly trained to hide.

he was too smart not to pick up on it. he closed the book and latched his eyes on to hers instantly. "what potion?"

"does it matter?" _of course it does, you fool._ she was butchering this, and badly so. usually, she'd rehearse a proposal like this, but she had decided to do it _now_ on a whim. 

he flicked his wand and the book floated up into the space where she assumed it was before. "how am i to brew a potion if i don't know what it is? why me?" _unless she doesn't know either._

"because you're the _second_ best potion maker on campus, and i'd prefer not to make any mistake on this one."

his face was impassive. _insolent girl_. "you mean best, but i digress. what am i getting in return for this favor?"

she should've known it wasn't going to be this easy. "one might say you owe me for the attempted murder a few weeks back."

he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the book case. "now for a serious offer. what will you give me if i help you?"

"you know i don't need you right? i could just use the imperius on someone." this manipulation would have worked on a weak minded person, but riddle was the farthest thing from weak minded. 

instead, he called her bluff. "you wouldn't have asked me if you didn't need me. lets not continue this charade any longer if you want my help. my services aren't free, edwards. everything has a price."

it was her turn to scowl. he was right, she didn't trust entirely that she would get it completely right, and she knew that riddle would look for any opportunity to critique her. he truly was a prodigal potioneer. she kept her end goal of the potion in mind when she bit out the next sentence. "fine. what do you want?"

he smiled, but it made her shiver. "good girl." _obedient girl._

_insolent, reluctant, obedient girl._

"don't goad me. what do you want?" _sadist._ he enjoyed toying with her.

"'anticipation is the sweetest torture.' is that not what you said to nott a few weeks back?"

she was getting fed up, but she had to control herself. riddle was unpredictable, and she still didn't know where the line was with him. _tread lightly._ "are you going to help me or do you just enjoy seeing me beg?" he pushed himself off the shelf and took another step closer.

"this is no where _near_ begging, edwards. you have _no idea_ how much i desire to see you beg. perhaps i'll make you." his eyes darkened in amusement as the witch in front of him looked away. her expression did not change, but she had showed that she understood the connotation, and his smugness widened. "why do you need me?"

"i told you, i needed a good potion maker, and you-"

"you lie to me and expect me still to help you? lestrange and nott are both good potion makers, and i'm sure you'd ask them before you'd ask me. tell me the real reason." he demanded.

he was being difficult, but what else was she expecting? she exhaled frustrated and conceded. _desperate girl._ "they're good because they know how to follow instructions, and i don't have those. i need someone who understands the properties and knows how the ingredients interact."

"ah so this is an experiment," he said, reading between the lines. he took another step closer to her. _not this again,_ she thought, but still didn't move. "may I ask what for?"

"personal interest project." she grumbled. "if you aren't going to assist me, then i'd prefer you tell me now rather than-"

"but you'll owe me, edwards," his voice was sickeningly patronizing. he was acting like a guardian, like he was protecting her from himself, all while provoking her, knowing she had no choice but to say yes to his demands. he knew she'd only come to him if she was truly, _truly_ desperate, and he relished in the humiliation it so apparently caused her. _desperate, masochistic girl_. "am i someone you want to be indebted to?"

she grimaced. "no, but this is my only option." there was no point in hiding it, they both knew it was true, but from the cruel smirk on his face, she knew she shouldn't have admitted it.

he raised an amused eyebrow. "when do you need me?" another step closer. _don't move._

she didn't know if she was saving her pride or wanting to be close to him. either way, she was going crazy.

she thought for a moment. all the research on sedative potions she had looked up said they took around 6 hours to brew, and she needed to plan a block of time around that. "there's an abandoned potions classroom on the 4th floor. how is friday right after dinner?"

"that's fine. tell me what potion it is." he dictated.

she bit her lip. "well, when you said it was an experiment, you weren't entirely wrong."

"and that means what?"

she reached into her bag, pulling out two scrolls of parchment. they were copies of the notes she'd written. she held them out and he took several more steps toward her to grasp them. several more steps than what was necessary. "that's all the preliminary research i've done. i've got all the possible ingredients we might need, and i made note of all the spells we might."

his eyes darted quickly over the unfolded paper. he spoke slowly. "you've based your research around recreating a medical effect, not a potion that exists."

"something like that." why was she constantly so astounded by his intellect? he consistently surprised her with the way his mind worked; how quickly he seemed to make reason out of nonsense. 

"you plan on trying to bind muggle elements to a magical potion, and you expect this to go well?" his eyes were still darting across the paper, flicking back and forth.

"it's the most plausible procedure i have. _obviously_ i looked for something easier, but taking the lazy way out is, well, lazy." _and dangerous._

he looked up at her and her eyes burned once again. "don't be irascible. it's unmannerly." _he's one to talk about being irascible_. "it seems like you're trying to make a potion that replicates the symptoms of an amphetamine, yes?"

"something like that." _stop saying that._

"except this potion doesn't exist."

"yet." she corrected.

another step closer. he refolded the parchments and handed them back to her.

"you're going to great lengths for this potion," he said, his hand tracing up the side of her arm. she took a small step back. "what is it for?"

"call it a personal interest project." 

"hm," he said, and took a step away from her. she took in a frustrated breath.

"why do you always do that?" she hadn't meant to say that out loud. _bad things happen when i don't control myself._

"do what?" he feigned innocence, resting his arm on the book shelf, so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. he wanted her to say the words, to tell him exactly what he did to her. 

"you invade my personal space for the sole purpose of irritating me."

he smiled evilly at her. "i do admit that watching the collected version of you become a mess at my hand is quite an addictive sight."

"oh don't make me laugh." she rolled her eyes. 

"if it annoys you so, then why let me do it?"

"would you stop if i said to?"

"perhaps if you begged me." _sadist._

she narrowed her eyes at him. "i loathe you, you know that? i truly do despise you."

"do you?" he whispered, grabbing her wrist as she turned to walk away. "i don't think that you do."

"i do, most passionately. now, i must be going." he'd heard what he needed to hear. he pulled her by her wrist and used his other hand to clasp her jaw. he leaned down and kissed her.

shock was not the word. 

the kiss was calculated and tentative. it felt algorithmic and practiced. it was like he was using a formula; _x_ amount of pressure for _y_ number of seconds. she didn't have time to think; she didn't have time to realize what was happening. she could feel his hands on her, searing and burning her. she felt his lips, but she didn't _feel_ him kissing her.

three seconds. she was completely paralyzed for three seconds.

suddenly, it hit her. the force at which he had destroyed her occlumency barriers was unbearable. she screamed and he swallowed it, somehow being able to control his body on the outside world and his consciousness in her mind. she was in pain like she had never felt before, one that dropped almost every defense she had in place. he was traveling through her mind at the speed of light. 

being inside her mind was so unnervingly similar to his that if not for the different thoughts and memories, he would've thought he was still in his own. everything was so organized and well kept, but there was magic deep down, drawing him to specific memories and observations. 

he had one mission; find what she was protecting the most. he tore through cabinets, ripping out files of random memories and information as he went, scrambling her mind as she tried to chant to herself to do something, physically, magically, or mentally, that would break his focus. he saw her family. the pain was blinding, and she needed some kind of fault in his magic to prey upon.

he saw the thoughts about the potion, and as they started to slip away from her, he followed it all the way down until he finally reached two barriers where her two most protected secrets lied. _get him out, get him out now. or get prepared to obliviate him the second he gets out._

she tired to bring her consciousness back to her body. _where's my wand?_

foolish boy. he used the same method of legilimency to try to break the barriers on these memories and thoughts that were so well protected, but she spent two years building and adding on to these barriers. nothing would get through. 

he tried again, but by now, her mind had started to reorganize itself. the third strike, and the force at which the rushed him out of her brain sent magic pulsating through them as their consciousnesses resettled in their bodies. 

she pulled back and slapped him. 

her recoiled, seemingly still recovering from being thrown so violently out of her mind. "don't you _ever_ put your hands on me again."

"you had no right." her blood was staining his hands. she didn't realize she was bleeding.

her wand was aimed at his heart. " _do it_." he hissed, and just before she did, she saw him discreetly slip his wand out of his sleeve, where it hung loosely by his side. _disarm him._

she couldn't. she was angry and scatterbrained, but he wasn't. he'd easily beat her. it wasn't occlumency that had saved her, it was rationality. _bad things happen when i don't control myself._

"i apologize." he said after noting her hesitation, but she did not lower her wand, though her vision was blurred. _disarm him._

"bullshit." her brain felt trashed and muddled as she struggled to put the pieces of her barriers back together. she only just became aware of their location, still near the back of the library. she assumed he'd cast _muffliatto_ discreetly, because she remembered yelling from the pain that still lingered in her head. 

"yes, yes. that is true." he was breathing heavily, but it didn't show in his voice. the magic that it took him to get through her occlumency had clearly drained him as much as it did her. "learn not to let yourself be distracted." _disarm him._

she seethed. all the power of her occlumency was going to rebuilding stronger barriers now, and she didn't have time to cover her anger. the only thing saving her from lashing out was the sight of his wand, ready to retaliate against anything she threw at him. the tip of her wand was alight with the rage channeling through her magic, and there were small sparks crackling around her fingertips. " _you are a fucking sociopath_."

"consider that payment for helping with your little potions experiment. run along." 

the time for revenge would come. _do something, do anything._

she walked away. her future self would thank her. if she sent a spell at him, he'd surely put her in the hospital.

the decision to try _that_ kind of legilimency on her was one he made on a whim. perhaps if he had thought it through, he would have gone about it a different way. then the doubts started rolling in. he got a lot of information, but he didn't get anywhere near those two sections that were so highly protected. 

he sighed, thinking about what would happen if she told the other four what had happened. they'd be mad again, they'd tell him not to be reckless, they'd chastise him and he did not want hear it. 

and then there was her.

he wasn't going to stop trying to figure her out. he needed a different, less hostile approach. he was so short sighted before, but now, he was playing the long game. how dare she exist before he could prove that he was superior to her? she can't leave until he made sure that they both knew her rightful place was beneath him. she needed to be afraid of him, and he'd do anything to make sure she was.

he told himself that he missed how his knights acted when she was around. how they acted happy in the presence of a woman who was not trying to court them.

he did not miss the challenge she brought with her every time she was near him.

he did not miss it.

he kept telling himself that, hoping it would soon be true.


	25. xxiii

december 1944

"so there's nothing new, then?" riddle said between clenched teeth, not bothering to hide his anger. 

"actually," lestrange said with a proud lilt to his voice. "i found something that may be of interest."

nott rolled his eyes in annoyance at his friends' theatrics. "out with it."

"i've made an interesting connection. alessandria goldenberg, remember? the woman she mailed the letter to?" they nodded, urging him to go on. "well, i found out who she is. she works for the american wizarding government. says she works for department of magical law enforcement, but her official position is _classified_."

so many parts of this assignment were clearly hastily thrown together. for one, they hadn't bothered to change her name, nor give her a new appearance. they also had sporadic meeting times, meaning they expected consistent information, but gave her no outlet to communicate it. usually she got a secure line for when she had to transport information, like a scrying mirror, but this time, they had given her nothing. they expected the ignorance of the students would cover for it. for a mission this sloppy, it should've been less than a week; something for her to slip in and out quickly an quietly. instead, she was here for an indefinite amount of time, with an identity that would crumble under the slightest bit of investigation. lazy.

"so," malfoy snorted. "the two people we know she has contact with outside of school both work secret government jobs?"

"well didn't her parents work for macusa?"

nott picked at the buttons on his shirt, avoiding looking up to speak. "but was that a lie?"

"well," lestrange said apprehensively. "i actually thought of that. i had two copies of the personnel manual, one from 1941 and another from 1943. in 1941, there's a _patricia edwards,_ auror, and _owen edwards,_ department of magical law enforcement, but they aren't listed in 1943."

"when did her parents die?" rosier asked.

nott answered. "she never said specifically."

"but even still, they weren't in the obituary section either. they just disappeared without a trace." lestrange finished; sufficiently adding more unknowns onto the pile they already had. 

there was an prolonged silence where a few of the puzzle pieces slipped into place, but several more spots opened up. it seemed like every time they learned anything about her, there were more questions left to be answered. _one step forward, two steps back._

riddle sighed. "well soon, i'll have almost all the wards down on her room. i think next week we'll need to create a diversion so i can take down the final one, and then we can look for answers in there." it took him much more time and effort to break the enchantments on her room than he would like to have admitted. 

and just like that, the energy in the room shifted. he paused at all their apprehensive reactions. he narrowed his eyes and they all averted their gazes. "something the matter?"

rosier cleared his throat. "and if she catches you, then what? she'll never be near us again."

"then i _suggest_ you make sure she doesn't find out." riddle warned. 

"and what if she does? what if that's the last straw?"

riddle narrowed his eyes and turned them to a sneer. "there are other women, rosier."

rosier was offended by the insinuation, but bit his tongue, knowing anything he'd say would instantly add fuel to the fire. instead, malfoy, being as argumentative as he is, jumps in. 

"don't act like-"

"like what, _malfoy?_ " he hissed the last word as a warning. 

he quickly adjusted his tone, sensing his friends' short temper. "like you don't care. she's your challenge, remember? you care about what happens to her, because if you sever all the connections to her, you won't be able to solve your little mystery."

"she's insignificant and unextraordinary." he lied both to himself and his friends. it was a weak lie too; why would he be so hellbent on figuring her out if she was insignificant? "if this fails, then i'll find another way." _i always do._

"do you often snog unextraordinary people?" the moment it slipped out of lestrange's lips, he wish he hadn't said it. the murderous glint in riddle's eyes was enough to dispel any sense of confidence lestrange had in his argument. riddle took note that none of the others seemed to be surprised about the confession; he was sure they'd try to bring it up again another time.

riddle didn't deny it. the terrified look on lestrange's face must have been enough for riddle, because he chose not to even acknowledge the statement. "tell me, how do you think she'd react if i told her that you're all stalking her? or that we're all snooping through her private life? of how you actively know i'm breaking through her wards, but haven't said anything about it?"

"no need for the threats, riddle. you insinuating that we'd betray you is fucking insulting." rosier snarled. _good. never betray me._

"it wasn't a threat. it was a reminder that _none of you_ are any more innocent than i, and if you want to talk about morality then remind yourself that there is just as much blood on your hands as there is mine."

which hands were dirtier? the hand that did the crime, the hand that poured gasoline over the evidence, or the hand that lit the match?

•••

on facet of the boys' friendship is that no matter what was being argued over, they'd always easily bounce back. if they weren't arguing in the moment, there would be entirely civil conversation. this lack of hostility and well practiced manners made for an abhorrently boring breakfast the next morning, the only dull bit of excitement being the upcoming quidditch match today. that was, until headmaster dippet stood to make an announcement. 

"students! two quick announcements, please." he said, using a voice projecting spell. the hall quieted at once and he beamed as he continued. "as you all know the christmas holidays are quickly approaching-"

they were. and sicaria still had no plan to get into the malfoy party. perhaps they'd invite her if she wallowed in her loneliness enough.

"-so our staff would like to remind you to start making the appropriate arrangements, depending on whether or not you choose to stay."

she stabbed at her plate with her fork; half listening, half thinking. _if all these elite, purebloods and acolytes were to be in attendance, then surely there would be security measures-_

"next, as you have undoubtedly motived, events in the world have been quite unpleasant recently-"

she snorted to herself. _that's an understatement._ both the wizarding world and muggle worlds were in shambles, leaving messes all over the globe, with no end in sight.

"-and i know that the effects of such chaos have taken a toll on morale. we hate to see our students carrying around the frustrations that unavoidably come with the oppressive hand of war-"

_hm._

"-so to distract from this despair for an evening, and in the spirit of christmas and companionship, hogwarts will be hosting a yuletide ball!"

 _oh god._ her head snapped up quickly, a look of horror on her face, amongst her friends who only looked mildly irritated. a chorus of squeals of excitement and groans of disinterest echoed throughout the hall. lestrange gave an amused snort. 

"unfortunately, this is only open to students 4th year and up, but there will be events the afternoon prior, only open to third years and younger."

already, there were stolen glances in her direction. a dance could be fun, but not if she had to endure two weeks of attempted courtship prior. she looked back at her plate, determined not to make eye contact with anyone.

"it is to be held on the evening before your departure. the night of december 22. more details will be given as the date approaches."

she can feel the stares, and shuts her eyes for a second, hoping this is all some big dream. apparently, many of the boys trying to court her had shared ideas.

"that is all for now. eat up!"

she sighed languidly as all the attention left dippet, and her friends turned back toward their table. 

"oh brilliant. another bloody event to look forward to," rosier said sarcastically. 

riddle shook his head at his friend. "you know you don't _have_ to go."

"of course i do," he responded. "i have a reputation to uphold."

malfoy seemed to sense her quietness and grinned maliciously. "oh don't look so down, edwards!"

"i'm sure your endless line of suitors will ensure you are accompanied," riddle said, taking pleasure in her humiliation. his grin only widened at her glare. he didn't need legilimency to see the mortification stirring beneath them. "i dare say, it's a large catalogue to choose from, no?"

he did not want her to go with any of them. 

they were a bunch of groveling, pathetic, self-embarrassing morons. idiots, all of them, pining after a girl who was clearly unresponsive and unreciprocating. they were dumber than her, and wouldn't be able to keep up with her banter the way he did. would they be able to set her alight with just a touch, the way he did? _no_ , he didn't think so. riddle was unapologetically happy to see the speed and ferocity at which she rejected them all in the previous weeks. the level of blasé disinterest she showed was unintentionally cruel, and he reveled in it. 

no, none of those fools deserve even a moment of her company. 

"oh look, here comes one now," nott said, and her head snapped up immediately, a look of desperate exasperation present. 

the dread was palpable. it wasn't as though he liked hurting their feelings (she kept telling herself), only that because she constantly had to, she was desensitized to the feeling. she couldn't help but feel a small amount of pride when they stormed off more angry than sad, because that meant that their ego was hurt more than any true emotions. 

they laughed. all _five_ of them. _why are they laughing?_ she realized, and then she was both angry and embarrassed. there was no one coming (for now, thank god) but the pointed stares and glances from across the hall that she pretended not to notice ensured that it would happen soon enough. lestrange was just messing with her.

"fuck you." she hissed. 

he intentionally touched her hand as he reached for his glass on the table. she disguised her shiver by picking up her fork and shoving the food around her plate. 

"don't be prissy," malfoy goaded. "just say yes to the first one who asks, then the rest will back off."

she snorted derisively. no they wouldn't. 

nott vocalized this. "don't give her false hope. they seem to have made her a competition."

"not in on the little game, are you?" she hoped her tone was more scathing than resigned.

"why would we be? we're already winning." riddle asserted.

she scowled because it was true.

"macnair looks almost ready to burst a blood vessel." rosier quipped. 

she sighed, and ran her finger across her ring. "i'll have to become a recluse, won't i? simply never be seen outside of class until it's over."

all signs of amusement dropped from riddle so suddenly that it felt like the air around them was vacuumed out. _no, no, no._ he hadn't finished the wards yet; he needed to find a way to keep her away from there as often as he could get away with. 

"brilliant idea," lestrange said. "you plan to starve to death over embarrassment?"

"wouldn't most women just sit back and enjoy the attention?"

"have you _met_ many women, abraxas?" she hissed. she was going to continue to chastise him, but at that moment, she saw three boys stand from their tables. a hufflepuff girl had just said _yes_ to a boy who just asked her, and this seemed to start the tip of the dominoes. they all glared each other down as they all made a path, unmistakably in her direction. "oh _god_." she whispered. 

malfoy laughed even harder, tears almost springing from his eyes. he spilled a bit of pumpkin juice over the front of his quidditch robes. she stood abruptly, and grabbed her bag, walking as fast as she could out of the hall, without it looking like a full on sprint. she ignored the voices calling her back to the hall. 

sicaria didn't make it very far though, because only a few moments after she exited the hall, a hand reached out and grabbed her bicep. she turned around at the contact and her irritation became full fledged anger at the boy who was holding her. 

"take your hand off me or i'll break your arm." she said, before snatching her arm away.

"forgive me," the boy said, clasping his hands together. "allow me to introduce myself, properly. i'm alexei leonov."

this is the same boy who had instigated the fight in the bar when she was last in hogsmeade. she noted that he was also wearing quidditch robes, bright scarlet with the number 23 on them. 

"lovely," she scathed, not bothering to hide the disdain in her voice. "now, if you'll excuse me."

but he took a step closer. "please don't. i wanted to speak with you."

"i don't particularly care what you have to say."

he smiled at her, as if it was a joke. "i insist. it'll only take a moment."

she sighed and he took another step toward her. she didn't move back, only crossing her arms over her chest. her wand was in her hand and fought the urge to use legilimency on him. 

he took her silence as a reason to continue. "i wanted to apologize for my behavior in hogsmeade this weekend. i was intoxicated and ignorant, but i took no part in those vile comments the others made about you. i'm a gentleman, and i'd never say such things in the presence of a lady as beautiful as yourself."

_liar._

she fought back a sneer. "fantastic. is that all?"

he kept inching closer and closer and she finally needed to step back. "i also wondered if you'd let me make it up to you."

she blinked, and he reached toward her again. she took a large step back, uncrossing her arms to let her wand hand by her side. "no need. also, you're invading my space."

either he didn't get the hint, or he thought the proximity would somehow help his cause. "no, no i insist. i wondered if you'd like to accompany me to the yuletide ball."

he flashed a smile at her, his teeth bared in a way that felt more daring than charming, like he got off on her saying 'no'. 

"how kind of you, but i decline." she spun her wand in her fingers at her side as he continued to close in on her. sicaria wasn't stupid. maybe he thought she was pretty and that he wouldn't mind going to the ball with her, but that was not why he asked. she hadn't forgotten the fact that his friends had tried to place a bet with her as the prize, and on the day of the aforementioned quidditch match, he'd asked her out again. this was more of a power play than anything. he thought, for some reason, that he'd be able to persuade her and make fools out of rosier, lestrange, and malfoy if she _willingly_ agreed to go with him. 

it was smart, but transparent.

his bright smile was not displaced. "is there a reason why? most women would have jumped at the chance to have an offer this early." her eyebrow twitched upward slightly at the subtle manipulation. not only was he telling her that he had other options, but he was also trying to threaten her with the _unthinkable embarrassment_ of going to a dance alone. 

"i don't owe you a reason, do i? is 'no' not a sufficient answer?"

he tilted his head thoughtfully and then shook it his dark hair shifting over his eyes. "not when that isn't the answer i want to hear."

 _calm down. he's goading you._ her expression was one of disgust at the sick insinuation, and his eyes lit up with glee. her wand barely moved up an inch, a curse on the tip of her tongue, before adonis rounded the corner.

"ah, edwards! there you are." rosier said, as if he hadn't known where she was. "i need to speak to you."

"not now, _snake_. we're in the middle of a conversation." leonov said. 

"and if i heard correctly, she told you to fuck off. i think your conversation is done." rosier sneered.

leonov seemed to think for a moment before scowling and glancing at his watch. he ignored rosier, and instead turned back to sicaria. "we'll finish our talk later, miss edwards."

"we won't. pleasure meeting you leonov, now run along." she said shooing him with her hand. he only smiled wider and bowed as he turned and left.

she rolled her eyes and turned back to rosier who was eyeing her with an expression she could not decipher. 

"are you alright?"

she gave a small smile. "no worse than usual. you needed to speak to me?"

"is there anyone you plan on going to the dance with?"

"i haven't given it a thought, but i doubt a name will come to mind."

he nodded and hesitated before speaking. "then i have a proposition for you."

her smile dropped. "oh don't look like that. we're friends, edwards. that's all."

"okay then what's the proposition."

"would you like to go to the ball with me?" he smirked at her, immediate reaction. 

"oh for _christ's sake,_ " she started

"let me elaborate," he said, crossing his hands behind his back. sicaria noticed that was one of his habits. "we're friends, we're seen together often. people are going to ask you up until the day of the dance unless you have a date."

"we've already established that they're still going to ask."

"yes but once you have a 'legitimate' excuse, they'll back down. in theory."

she mulled it over in her head, trying to think of every possible implication of this scenario. 

"what's in it for you?" she asked, tone accusatory.

he looked jokingly offended. "is the accompaniment of a beautiful witch not payment in itself?"

she scowled at him. "don't flirt with me. a real answer, will you?"

sigh. "if you just disappear for two weeks, when will we ever see you? also, it makes it look like you're hiding and i'm certain you don't want that."

"i'll find out the real reason eventually."

 _there's no doubt in my mind that you will._ "is that a yes then?"

"a reluctant one."

he smiled at her, and then pulled her into a short hug, a gesture that he'd never done before. he released her, but kept his arm over her shoulder, in a manner that she had many times seen him do to malfoy. "plus, all the witches who hate you will be fawning over me afterward. a revenge type thing, yeah?"

she scowled as she walked with him back in the direction of the common room even though he needed to be out on the quidditch pitch soon. "you're an absolute whore, do you know that?"

a laugh and a grin fell gracefully over his face. "i wear that title proudly. will you be attending the match today?"

"i have nothing better to do."

•••

turns out that watching quidditch and not playing was unbelievably boring. the students of the school were excited about the matches because of the emotions that ran deep when rooting for their house, but since sicaria felt to connection to slytherin, she just wanted to see rosier, lestrange, and malfoy do well. 

she sat in the same spot she did at the first match she attended, one in the farthest back row of the stands, where no one could see her unless they were specifically looking for her. 

it was boring, only for a while though, because not long after the match started, riddle made his way into the stands, saying small 'hello's to the people he passed and declining offers to sit with others. the moment he neared her row, his gentlemanly expression dropped and became the one sicaria was most used to; passive irritation. 

she did not acknowledge nor meet his eye when he sat down next to her. their shoulders almost touched. 

for a moment, she stared at the game, watching rosier dodge a bludger that seemed to be aimed illegally high. she humored herself with the idea that riddle would not speak to her, but she knew that was too good to be true. 

"do you still require my assistance with your potion?"

she inhaled the cold winter air as she evaluated his question. was he goading her? or asking a genuine question. 

"unfortunately." the crowed cheered as lestrange saved a goal that leonov had sent his way. 

he hummed and exhaled shortly, something vaguely resembling a laugh. he edged closer to her.

"where's thomas?" she asked, hoping to break the silent tension between them. the sound of the announcer talking to the crowd was dull in her ears and the rowdy spectators went entirely unnoticed.

"library, i assume." he said, staring out at the quidditch pitch, but not particularly watching the game. "he's a student aide for madam glinda."

her anger at their last meeting was boiling over, accompanied by the general anger she always seemed to have when he was around. how dare he disturb her solitude, when she was so completely content by herself? how dare he come here, just to ask and answer one question, and then force an awkward silence upon her? how dare he make her body betray her mind?

_fuck this._

her rage only mounted and mounted in the silence until she suddenly stood, preparing to leave the match and just go do something in the castle. anything to get away from the cloud of anger riddle seemed to carry around with him. however, before she could even take a step, he clasped his cold, yet searing, fingers around her wrist. 

"don't."

"why?" she asked, making no move to pry his fingers off of her wrist. 

his lack of control. whether or not he was getting information out of it, he loved seeing her succumb to his touch. maybe he just loved touching her. either way, it was intoxicating. 

he stood up, and at the same moment, the crowd cheered as one of the slytherin chasers scored. neither of them knew who; neither of them were paying attention to the match anymore.

this was dangerous. he was starting to chase that feeling, with no true reasoning behind it. the worst part was that he didn't search for an answer, he chose to just let himself indulge in the sensation. he was not usually one to do things without purpose.

the fact that he didn't care only made him more furious with himself.

his other hand went up and held the side of her neck while his thumb brushed her cheek. she blinked several times, staring directly into the dark eyes that seemed to be conflicting with hers. he was trying to communicate with his eyes, but for once, she couldn't read him. 

he leaned in slightly and she pulled back, not far enough that his hand moved from its position. she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. _calm down_. "are you doing this to try to get into my head again?"

he does not laugh. "i'll spare you this time." _fool me once..._

 _think rationally._ "are you lying?"

"i haven't decided yet." his eyes darted across her face lingering over her lips before returning to her eyes. he stared at her as if he was begging her to push him away. "may i?" _please say no, say no. deny me, say no._

_bad things happen whe-_

but she gave a short nod before she could even finish the thought and he closed the distance. no one was looking; for, all eyes were on the slytherins who had just caught the snitch. 

this kiss was entirely different from the first. his lips burned against her, the way that his fingers always did when he brushed against her skin. the first kiss had been for a goal, but this one was unapologetically passionate. where the first one was planted on her with no time to react; this time he gave her plenty of time to think and build anticipation. 

she was drowning or flying or dying. something was happening. she was spiraling out, losing control of her mind as she kissed him back, letting him dominate and guide her. she was freezing and burning at the same time. everything was out of order, out of control. out of her control. 

he bit her bottom lip and she opened her mouth. the way his tongue explored her; it was not experimental, but it was the farthest thing from practiced. she had never seen him talk about, or even show interest in another woman, but he could not possibly be this good with no experience. 

her mind reeled with questions and answers. _what is he doing? what am i doing? why am i kissing him?_

_because you want to._

_then why is he kissing me?_

_because he wants to._

her mind went blissfully blank. 

he leaned further into the kiss, shifting his hand so that his fingers were pulling the back of her neck into him, and his thumb was rubbing along her cheek and earlobe. her head was tilted up onto his mouth, and her hand dragged through his hair.

it was overwhelmingly intimate, but not even slightly romantic.

she was okay with that. she understood it. 

he pulled away slowly, and they opened their eyes. he exhaled, and she could see the breath float through the cold air. he removed his hand from her face and used her wrist to guide her back down so she was sitting. the moment they returned to their original position in the stands, he stopped touching her completely, even putting more distance between them.

it was okay. she understood it.

"i've always thought quidditch was a moronic sport." he spoke with his usual tone, as though absolutely nothing had happened. "i've never particularly enjoyed watching them all these years."

she gaped at him for a second before clearing her throat. actually, she understood nothing. _just say something. anything._ "do you believe everything that _you_ don't enjoy is beneath you?"

"not intrinsically, but generally yes."

she didn't know what to say about it, or how he was acting as thought nothing had happened. she looked down at the quidditch pitch, following his line of eyesight, and saw rosier and malfoy looking directly at them. the way they smirked let her know that they had definitely seen. malfoy was tapping lestrange on the shoulder, while he obliviously continued to talk to the third chaser on the slytherin team. embarrassment crept up her neck, but riddle seemed to be unphased. 

riddle had never seemed like a person fueled by compulsion and urge, but in that moment he had acted on impulse. she could tell. actually she couldn't. there was absolutely nothing she could infer about him from their kiss. calling it a kiss felt like an understatement almost; what they did felt so much more intimate than a kiss.

he told himself that it was one time, to get it out of his system. 

but he had gotten a taste, and now all he wanted was more. 


	26. xxiv

december 1944  
tw: suicidal thoughts/mentions of substance abuse

"why are you in such a good mood?" lestrange asked her as she sat down at the breakfast table. usually, she was the first at breakfast, and then all five of them would come in together, but today, lestrange was already there. rosier, nott, malfoy, and riddle were nowhere to be seen.

"it's a good day, my dear friend." she smiled. "an excellent day indeed."

he furrowed his brow at her questioningly, but then that confusion dissolved into a smirk. "i see."

"what are you talking about?" 

"oh nothing at all," he shook his head with an amused expression on his face. she sighed. whatever he was thinking, he was not going to tell her. she pushed her hair behind her ear and pulled out a rare potions textbook that madam glinda had lent to her. sipping her copy, she waved her hand to flip to the page she had last stopped reading. she was reviewing the properties of the ingredients, trying to make sure that once she changed the chemical configurations of them, they wouldn't become toxic. it was only taking so long because she was not reading it in her native tongue; the book was greek. 

she and lestrange made choppy, but polite conversation. he refrained from asking about what she was reading and she refrained from asking where the rest of his friends were. 

not long after, malfoy, nott, and rosier entered the hall, quickly making their way to the two already sitting there

"oh hello edwards," malfoy said, smirking at her as he sat down on her left. she raised an eyebrow at him as nott elbowed him in the chest. 

"hi." she said blankly, turning her face back down to her book. they were about to bother her about something, and she didn't feel like entertaining today, no matter how good her mood was.

"anything interesting happen recently?" rosier asked in an amused tone. _what the hell are they getting at?_

"no?" she asked, glancing up to see the unconvinced looks on all their faces. whatever it was they wanted to mess with her over, she hoped they'd do it soon. 

"nothing you want to tell us about?"

she painted an impassive look on her face, and looked up through her eyelashes, glancing from amused face to amused face. "whatever it is you're trying to say, out with it."

"no romantic endeavors you want to tell us about?" her head snapped up to rosier with a smirk on his face. she sighed. 

"oh, so that's what this is about." _of course,_ she thought. malfoy and rosier had seen what happened at the quidditch match; she was foolish to think they'd forgotten, or that they hadn't told nott and lestrange. she wondered if they had interrogated riddle the way they were doing to her. 

lestrange smirked at her reluctance. "you mean the fact that you kissed riddle?"

"no, i didn't." _how is life like this for me? why am i being interrogated by a bunch of teenagers about a kiss, when i'm a literal war criminal?_ she almost winced at the fact that one day, she'd just disappear and they'd never see her again. she forced herself to immediately swallow the thought; emotional attachment was nothing but agony that she couldn't afford.

"you kissed him, he kissed you. semantics." nott said, waving a piece of toast at her. that was a good point. why _did_ she let him kiss her? more questions with an answer she didn't have. 

she didn't respond. she didn't know how to.

"oh don't be embarrassed, i thought you hated him," malfoy goaded, but his tone was laced with actual misunderstanding. 

"i do." taking the three newspapers from the silvery, white owl that had just landed in the table. it hooted as she fed it a small piece of bread. 

"then why did he kiss you?"

she hesitated, not knowing whether or not to lie. the first time, it was because he wanted to distract her long enough to use legilimency on her (something she was still supposed to be mad about), but the second time was entirely different. why _did_ he kiss her? "no idea." she settled on the truth.

"surely there must be a reason-"

"ask him then." she turned her gaze down the the newspaper, hoping that they'd take the hint to drop the subject, before her brain ran away with the questions they were asking; questions she didn't have answers for. "you're know him better than i do."

"so you two aren't...?"

she snorted. "we're not even friends."

rosier shook his head. 

"bullshit." malfoy reciprocated. his tone was accusatory, but she was telling the truth, part of it at least. "he doesn't usually let his women stick around after, but he sat next to you at dinner last night. you should feel special."

his _women._

she stood quickly, gathering her things with a wave of her wand. she left the _daily prophet_ though, purely out of habit since riddle always asked for it when she was done. "go to hell, malfoy." she sneered. "i'm not _his,_ it was a kiss, that it. whatever else you're trying to imply is insulting."

she nearly bumped into riddle as she stormed out of the hall as they simultaneously tried to get through the door. she shot him a withering glare, though he hadn't done anything (that she knew of). she continued her stride to nowhere in particular, hoping to waste the time before her first class of the day. 

he looked after her confused as he walked into the hall, settling down in the spot she had just left. his eyes landed on the daily prophet resting on the table. "what happened?"

it was once again silent, as if they were hoping he'd forget he asked if they were quiet for long enough. 

"well?" he raised an eyebrow at his friends. the impatience seeped through his tone. 

"malfoy basically called her a whore." nott said casually, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. 

_i- he- what?_

"no i fucking didn't!" malfoy yelled, pointing a threatening finger in notts direction, and he only shrugged his shoulders in response. "i said nothing of the sort!"

lestrange coughed slightly. "well not in those exact terms."

•••

" _i apologize for what malfoy said to you at breakfast._ " she flinched slightly as riddles voice rang through her head during professor merrythought's lecture on the different types of defenses needed for varying classifications of dark hexes and curses.

" _it doesn't matter._ " she flexed the muscles in her hand, trying not to let her mind wander. this is the first time that he's made a statement even tangentially related to their kiss, and she didn't want to dwell on it.

" _they said you stormed off after_." she took her eyes off of merrythought for one second to glance at riddle across the room. she hated when he spoke to her like this.

" _i did._ " he looked toward her, and their eyes met for a moment. 

she turned back to merrythought when he responded. " _if it didn't matter then why leave?_ "

" _it mattered then. it doesn't now_." she needed to get high, and soon. she was starting to crave the catharsis it gave her, and all this thinking about riddle, her friends, and the assignment was wearing down on her. merrythought's voice felt like static in her ears as she tried to shove all her thoughts away and clear her head.

she scoffed at herself. it was one (real) kiss. there was nothing more to it. riddle seemed to be avoiding speaking about it, so she would to. she decided that just this once, she was going to play along with his little game of avoiding it, and if he wanted to seek her out and ask her about it, he could. 

but what would she say?

" _why did it matter then?_ "

" _did they tell you exactly what he said?_ " she tapped her quill against the desk in impatience.

she shouldn't have said that. she should have shut down the conversation there, but now it was drifting into dangerous territory. 

he hesitated a moment. " _yes._ "

she understood it now. he was trying to trap her into a conversation. he was trying to hurt her. he wanted her to ask so that he could hurt her and he could pretend nothing happened. and to think, she thought just avoiding the subject would be enough for it to fade into nonexistence. 

calm down. think of what day it is. that brought a faint smile to her face.

" _then i'm sure you can use your analytical skills._ "

" _no, i want you to explain it to me._ "

" _which answer do you want?_ " and instead of waiting for his answer, she raised her hand when merrythought asked for a volunteer to demonstrate a sufficient shield to withstand the effects of a class 5 dark curse. 

•••

"you do know you aren't allowed to roam the halls at night?" watching her stride out of the dormitory hallway. 

her head turned quickly at nott's voice from across the room. "why is it that all of you are always in the common room when i am?" she spat, ignoring his first question. 

leave it to these five to ruin her favorite day of the year. in fact, sicaria though that perhaps it should be a national holiday so that the entire world had time to celebrate with her. 

no, no. she wouldn't let them take this day from her. 

"it's a common area."

"it is, isn't it?" she said, gazing out the window into the lake with an expression of delirium that rivaled professor silva's. 

rosier narrowed his eyes at her. "are you drunk?" 

_yes, but i wish i was high._ "sure."

"what's the occasion?" 

she hummed. "something i probably shouldn't be celebrating." _the anniversary of the deaths of oliver and priscilla edwards._

"and you decided to get drunk?" rosier asked, prying the bottle from her fingers for inspection.

"yeah, it's a celebration." she scoffed as if he was saying something moronic. she slid down and sat on against the leg of a table right in front of the fire. "i'd go piss on their graves if i could."

"who's?"

"caught in another lie, i suppose," she snorted lightly. "actually, i've never told you the date of my parents deaths, have i?"

"no, we didn't ask." nott said hesitantly.

"ah, so it technically wasn't a lie then. this is their death anniversary." she reached her arm out to rosier. "can i have that back please?"

they were silent for a moment as she stared in the fire and they communicated silently behind her. she smirked and took another sip, failing to suppress a small laugh at the fact that they thought they were being discreet. 

riddle finally spoke. "how many years?"

"one." she lied and took a sip. 

there were a few beats of silence where she assumed they were sharing glances toward each other behind her back. they were. "you really hated them, didn't you?"

"most ardently." she cleared her throat and stood, surprisingly easily. "well i'm off to the forest."

"woah, woah, woah," lestrange said, stepping in front of her before she could take any more steps in the direction of the door. "you'll get killed in there. especially in this state."

she scoffed. "ive done it before, i'll be fine." _even if i wasn't, who would give a shit?_ she took another sip. 

_no one. that's what makes it so great, right?_

"i'm coming with you."

"no." _if i died, no one would care._ that takes the pressure off of trying to remain alive. _no one would be disappointed if i died._ she smiled at the thought, finding it infinitely more happy than sad.

"then you're staying." rosier said, lightly grabbing her wrist, pulling her back toward the couch.

"no." _who would mourn me? like actually mourn, not just courtesy grief?_ perhaps the older lady who lived in the apartment above her in new york. she glanced around the room. _would these five mourn me? perhaps barry would, and maybe dumbledore. merrythought?_

she needed to update her definition of mourning. in truth, she meant _who would spare me a passing thought after my funeral? would they visit my grave?_

"you can't stop us from joining you, you know?" 

she groaned and slumped down on the other end of the couch from riddle. "bunch of nosy assholes. here, celebrate with me." she held out the bottle in no particular direction. riddle stared at her.

"i'm never one to turn down a drink." malfoy grabbed the bottle and took too large of a sip immediately coughed, feeling like his entire esophagus was on fire. " _what the fuck is this, edwards?_ _acetone_?"

"what?" and then she laughed. "oh yeah, sorry. it's like 80% alcohol content, should've warned you."

"how can you drink this?" he said, tracing his finger over the label.

"analgesic charm." she said, tapping her wand against her throat.

"but the liver damage?" rosier chimed in. 

pain existed for a reason, it told you when the body had reached it's limit. if you continue to push past the body's' limits, it will punish you with something far worse than pain. when you do destructive things with no tangible consequences, you brain starts to rationalize it, thinking that it can't possible be that bad. actions were supposed to have reactions; no one can live in a world made up of only actions.

she gave a small laugh. "it's not a habit." she said. "i don't usually drink it with such high content, but that's all i had."

nott shuffled over, taking the bottle from malfoy. "isn't the drinking age in america 18?" he took a tentative sip, and made a face but did not cough. _i am eighteen._ she laughed inside her head. 

"yeah and since when have intoxication laws ever stopped determined teenagers?" she thought back to a moment where she went through something vaguely resembling _training,_ which included doing various tasks with varying levels of intoxication. her parents had her do everything from simple transfiguration, like appearance altering glamours, to tasks impossible even while sober, navigating the city at night with only a map.

how they expected her to fight science was beyond her, but about five hours later, she found her way back.

"what were their names?" riddle asked, not having moved in an attempt to have a drink. 

"oliver and priscilla," if she was sober, she would have lied. she said their names as though they were acidic in her throat, which confused them. riddle shot a confused look at lestrange who only shrugged his shoulders and mouthed _i don't know._

the personnel manual he found had their names listed as _owen_ and _patricia_ but the venom with which she had said the names _oliver_ and _priscilla_ was hard to fake, especially with how drunk she was. someone or something was lying. 

"why do you celebrate their deaths?" rosier asked after she cast the analgesic along the column of his esophagus, dragging the tip of her wand down his neck as it glowed a faint blue. he took a sip.

"because i'm glad they're dead."

"but why?" malfoy asked. apparently they thought that since she was drunk, they'd get more answers to their questions. they were probably right, but she still knew her limit and the questions that she was specifically not going to answer. 

instead of responding, she pulled off her robes, and unbuttoned the cuff on her sleeve. rolling it up, she showed them the long, wide scar that stretched from the middle of her forearm all the way up to her shoulder. it shimmered slightly in the firelight. "this among many other things."

"holy shit." malfoy gaped.

riddle stood, grabbing her by the wrist and sliding her sleeve up further. her eyes were darting over the scar and he pulled her toward the firelight to get a better look.

 _i wonder if he thinks about kissing me every time he touches me._ it took every bit of power she possessed to create the strongest occlumency barrier she could manage to bury the thought. the last thing she wanted to do was drunkenly ask riddle why he touched her the way he did. 

"may i?" he raised his wand in his left hand as his right one did not leave her wrist. she nodded before even giving a thought to what he was going to do. truthfully she didn't care, she just wanted to drink until her liver shut down. _no, i want to overdose. god i would right now if i could._ the sensation and idea of snorting her entire stash right now was so tempting that she could almost taste it.

she thanked god she had come out of her room, or else she definitely would have.

"is there any context to this?" rosier asked as riddle started tracing his wand over the scar, analyzing it for curse traces. she wondered why he was so interested in her scar.

she snorted. "i'd show you the memory if i had a pensieve." she said, assuming that he was talking about the scar. she was too tipsy to realize that he was not asking about the scar at all; he wanted to know when they got so comfortable with each others touch. 

he glanced at lestrange, malfoy, and nott, all of whom shared similar confused and incredulous expressions. neither of them seemed to have an answer either. sicaria and tom were not paying attention; him too busy casting analytics on her arm and her watching his spellwork. 

" _venite videte visionem,_ " riddle mumbled, looking up at her briefly. 

"what?"

"use that. whatever memory you've selected will play like a moving photo for us."

she'd never heard of that spell. all the boys looked at riddle in disbelief. he _never_ let other people know about spells he created, outside his four friends. either he must have some sort of twisted attraction to her, or he _really_ wants to see the vision. 

she shrugged. " _venite videte visionem,_ " she casted, and in front of them, they saw the scene. the memory seemed to jump straight of her eyes onto the floor in front of them, crowding a circle around the vision.

_sicaria was standing in the center of a large room with two people, presumably oliver and priscilla, on the other end. they seemed to be in the middle of a duel, sicaria barely managing to throw out any offensive spells, focusing on diverting the attacks of both her parents._

_she looked much younger there, around fourteen years old, but was still dueling nonverbally._

_younger sicaria was struggling to deflect the curses, some ricocheting off the walls. all of them could see the frustration evident on her face, which was entirely different from the version that riddle had dueled. all emotion was gone from her face when present-sicaria lifted her wand._

_"remember your objective, child," priscilla yelled over the sound of the blasts hitting the walls and tapestries on the wall. "protect and transfer the item. you waste energy trying to protect yourself!"_

_sicaria used her wand to break apart pieces of the wooden floor before them. she just had time to cast a protego to stop the hexes hurtling toward her, but missed the slicing hex that cut across her neck and chest. she used her wandless hand to shoot pieces of the splintered wood at her parents. "how can i transfer the item if i'm incapacitated?" she scathed, deflecting a spell away from a small champagne bottle they had told her to protect._

_"control your emotion's or you'll inevitably lose, child." her mother once again called. oliver had yet to say a word. "you're not completing the task, you're surviving. that isn't good enough."_

_this sentence finally made the point click. they wanted and expected her to get hurt, or at least hit with something. she suppressed a groan as she deflected a spell her mother had sent in her direction at her father. as he went to deflect it, she sent another stunner his way, so he would have to choose between getting hit with whatever priscilla conjured, or the stunner. she heard him crumple to the ground._

_she only just managed to cast a protego over the champagne bottle after her mother sent a reductor curse toward it. sicaria took the bait; this was what her mother wanted to happen. she almost dropped her wand though, at the pain shooting up her arm, but she couldn't suppress the agonizing sound that left her throat. she made a quick glance, seeing the long thin flame shooting from her mothers wand like a rope. she pulled at sicaria's arm and she could feel the skin melting away._

_it was torture, but several of her "lessons" had been preparing her to fight through the pain. she sent a severing charm at her mothers wandless hand, that had been trying to summon the champagne bottle._

_the hand dropped and the woman hissed, being unable to stop the bleeding, and sicaria used her wand to tilt up her mothers arm, removing the fire rope from sicarias burning flesh. she summoned the bottle using her wandless hand. she sighed, thinking it was over as her mother had ended the fire spell._

_she made the mistake of glancing over to her fathers limp body (imagining that it was his corpse) and missed priscilla aiming her wand directly at the bottle, shattering it into hundreds of pieces in sicaria's hand._

_"what the fuck?" sicaria yelled at her mother, not bothering to deflect the stinging hex her mother sent as punishment._

_"don't swear at me," priscilla hissed, moving over to reawaken her husband. sicaria sighed and began to use her wand to pull the shards of glass out of her neck, arms, and torso. "the bottle is destroyed. you failed."_

_"the objective was to stop any attacks on the bottle until i transported it, was it not? the bottle was in my possession."_

_"but it was not transported."_

_"you didn't give me a location."_

_"transported means out of harms way, child. don't play dumb and stop throwing a tantrum." her father said in a grave voice, due to him just regaining consciousness._

_"do you understand why you lost?" priscilla said, cleaning her daughter's bloody glass off their living room floor._

_"i didn't," she mumbled under her breath, starting to feel slightly dizzy from blood loss. she started to close up the excessively (intentionally) long scar up her neck. the pain in her arm hurt so badly that it felt like her whole arm was going numb, but her head wasn't clear enough to fix it right now._

_"you resigned, that's why you lost." her mother said, repairing all the damage done to the room and ignoring sicaira's mumbling. "you assumed that i meant for you to choose between getting hurt and saving the object."_

_"was that not your goal?"_

_"it was, but you aren't supposed to resign to it. you lost because you resigned to the idea of getting hurt, and you believed that the duel would be over once you did so." oliver said, casting spells to clear up his own scars._

_neither of them made a glance toward her to ensure she wasn't bleeding out. she thought for a moment that perhaps she should. how would they react if she died on their floor? she humored the idea for a moment, of just slitting her throat right here and hoping that her next life came with some peace._

_they wouldn't mourn her as a daughter, they'd just be upset they wasted fourteen years on an asset that never got any practical use._

_"i lost because you changed the rules halfway through." she sighed at her pity party and stitched herself up, casting a diagnostic on the arm that received the fire rope spell. it had burned away all of her skin, but had just missed the muscle tissue, which would take much more time to regrow._

_neither of them made any suggestion as to how she should heal it. were they that confident in her teaching? or did they just not care as long as it didn't hinder her magical ability?_

_"there are no rules in real duels." sicaria scoffed at her mothers statement, but it wasn't like they were ones who preached fairness and justice. sometimes during duels, she wondered why they weren't afraid that one day she'd snap and throw the killing curse at one of them, but she knew it was because the living one would kill her the moment after it left her lips._

_oliver threw a vial of blood replenishing potion in her direction, which she caught, even with the pain searing up her arm and the open wounds in her skin. it was a significantly smaller dose than she needed, but she thought that perhaps it was on purpose. "do you think that all duels are going to be fair? what if you have to face gri-"_

"finite!" she cast quickly. she hadn't remembered how that memory ended, and she ended it so hastily that she forgot she typically only used nonverbal spells. 

the vision was over. riddle stared at the scar on her arm and then flickered up to her eyes, studying her, nott and lestrange on the floor where the vision had once been, rosier directly at her, with an expression she couldn't place, and malfoy looking anywhere but her. 

she snickered. "i wouldn't have shown you if i thought you'd react like this."

lestrange gaped at her. "how can you laugh at that?"

"because that's nowhere near the worst." she sat back down on the floor once again staring at the fire. _we're brewing the potion tomorrow; will the withdrawal symptoms have kicked in yet if i do a few lines now?_

she turned around and saw them all whispering behind her back. maybe they'd want to do a line too. she scolded herself for even thinking that she'd let them do something as stupid as introducing them to drugs like that. sicaria frowned. "stop talking about me." she hissed, but it was somewhat slurred. "i am _perfectly_ _fine_."

"i need another drink," lestrange mumbled, taking the bottle from the table where someone had left it. 

she groaned and threw her head in her hands and stood. she walked over and joined the huddle where they were certainly talking about her, but their conversation halted the moment they realized she was walking toward them. she raised an eyebrow as they stared at her. "no continue on. don't mind me."

"we weren't-"

"yeah, yeah, whatever. i don't care." frustration crept through her voice. "no need for lies. i'm not unstable despite what all of you seem to think, so please, enough of the discussion behind my back."

"tell me what it's like in new york." riddle demanded, ignoring her rant guiding her back down on to the couch, though his friends were nearing her in levels of insobriety. 

"terrible, but i love it." she leaned her head over the edge, slinging her arms over her eyes. she heard riddle take his first sip of the alcohol next to her, and she couldn't fight the satisfied smile. "there's lots to see in the muggle and magical world. its filthy and disgusting but never boring. i like my house though."

malfoy coughed. "i thought you... you know...?"

she leaned up and raised an eyebrow at him. "burned it down? a temper tantrum, that what you called it?"

"well at the time i didn't know your father-"

"shut _the fuck_ up, abraxas," she said calmly. she returned to their original original conversation. "i did. i have my own house. well apartment really."

"you own a flat?" nott asked, taking a swig from the bottle. there was still over half the bottle left, so she wasn't worried about not having enough for the potion tomorrow.

"i rent it." _british words are silly. flat, biscuit, slag. funny words._ "why did you ask about new york?"

"we know nothing about you." rosier answered before riddle could.

the next few minutes felt like something of an interrogation; they asked her questions, using her insobriety to their advantage. she wasn't upset though, because she did the same. they learned things about each others childhoods that she doubted they'd tell her if they were sober, even riddle making comments, though they were few and far between. the conversation drifted over to holiday plans.

"what are you doing for christmas?" one of the first actual questions riddle had asked her that wasn't phrased as a demand for information. 

she shrugged, levitating several vases in various places around the room. "probably nothing. i don't particularly like any of my living family so i'll probably just stay here." she lied well, even while drunk.

"how..." lestrange started, looking for the right word. "depressing."

riddle stared at her. "you're just going to spend christmas here? alone?"

"wouldn't be the first time."

"unsurprising. you're rather unpleasant." she snorted at nott's comment. 

she rolled her eyes. "whatever. what are you guys doing for the break?" she said, knowing exactly what they were all doing over the break. that training on rationalizing while drunk happened to be useful.

"well we've been meaning to talk to you about that," rosier said, giving a slow glance to malfoy who nodded. 

"you need to talk to me about your holiday plans?" 

she could hear adrien's faint snores. abraxas spoke this time, reluctance evident in his tone. "i've been coerced into this but, we would like to know if you'd like to join us at my parents estate over christmas break. there are hundreds of guest rooms and a christmas party on the 22nd."

"was it that painful to say?"

"very, and i'm sure the answer will be excruciating."

she blanked. "i don't want a pity invitation." actually, she _needed_ and invitation.

she heard tom mumble something to the effect of _arrogant shrew._

"no trust me i don't feel bad for you in the slightest. in fact, imagining you here moping alone on christmas brings me great joy."

"malfoy!" thomas hissed and punched his shoulder hard enough that abraxas groaned. 

"anyone ever told you how charming you are, malfoy?"

"all the time, edwards. all. the. time."

adonis sat on the other side of her. "well personally, i'd very much enjoy your company should you decide to come with."

"and your parents are okay with this?" she directed the question toward abraxas. 

"i wouldn't ask if i didn't already have their blessing. just give me an answer edwards. these four have stayed every year since third year."

"alright." she shrugged, taking the bottle from lestrange. she cast a cleansing charm over the mouth of it, not liking to drink after other people. she took another small sip, feeling the sting as the analgesic started wearing off. 

"really? that easy?" thomas gasped. "i thought you would've put up more of a fight."

"we'll see what sober sicaria has to say about this."

she stood, carrying the bottle with her, being adequately prepared for bed. 

"one last thing," malfoy said before she could leave. "are you pureblood?" 

she glanced around his face for a moment before giving her response. "depends on what happens when i answer."  
  
he rolled his eyes. "you're beyond difficult. fine, i'll rephrase. can you lie about being pureblood convincingly enough?"  
  
"i can lie about anything convincingly enough." she sighed, running a hand through her hair, though it got tangled. she let out a laugh that sounded more like the precursor to crying. she saw nott's head droop, indicating that he had fallen asleep along with lestrange. "but yes, i am well versed in pureblood etiquette." riddles eyes had yet to leave her, noting how different this version of drunk sicaria was from the one he had talked to at slughorns halloween party.   
  
"well if you plan on coming to my parents house, you'll need to. they're... eccentric." he struggled to find a word to describe them without outright calling them bigots.  
  
"it's fine, malfoy. i've dealt with my fair share of pureblood supremacists."  
  
"so you aren't pureblood then." rosier alleged and quirked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"i didn't say that. does it matter if i am?"  
  
malfoy shrugged. "maybe not, but let's call it curiosity."  
  
she rolls her eyes. "my father was half, my mother was half. make of that what you will. happy?"   
  
riddle exhaled slightly. "depends on if you lied or not." he remarked.  
  
"can't tell?" she mocks. "yes, it was the truth. i have no reason to lie about my blood status."

sicaria stalked off in the direction of her dorm, preparing to pass out from exhaustion and emotional confusion. she wondered if it was too late to obliviate them all so that they'd remember none of it. she had never regretted anything more than showing them that vision. maybe she'd obliviate herself so she didn't have to remember.

"it doesn't, by the way," rosier called after her and she turned around in confusion. "it doesn't matter that you aren't pureblood."

she gave a small smile. 

"blood traitor." she joked, and he and malfoy laughed.

riddle still hadn't taken his eyes off of her.


	27. xxv

december 1944

maybe getting drunk yesterday wasn't the best idea, because sicaria couldn't help but to be obscenely embarrassed from the memory she showed them. while drunk, she knew how to get herself out of dangerous situations, but that didn't stop her from doing things that she decidedly wouldn't have if she was sober. all she could do was pray that they'd either not remember, or decidedly not bring it up.

she forced herself not to dwell on it though, and instead spent the entire day distracting herself with thinking about potion making procedure. occlumency was her saving grace, as she locked away any preconceived notions about how riddle would act. he was unpredictable and untrustworthy, and if she tried to come up with a hypothesis for his behavior, she'd go down an unending rabbit hole of anxiety and doubt. instead of this, she chose to nip the issue in the bud, and build barriers in her mind around everything that didn't include the potion.

so here she sat at dinner, not eating and barely making conversation, doing a last minute read through the spare potions textbook in which she made her annotations and created all the drafts of the procedure they'd be following. she read it again, and again, and again, each time making new changes and tweaking the recipe. she thought about calling it off entirely, and taking more time to do new research, but she felt like if she couldn't get high soon, she'd spontaneously combust. 

she felt her anxiety starting to peak and needed to busy herself with something, so she gathered her things from the table in preparation to leave. she was going to go to the classroom and begin setting up the materials, and begin on the parts she could do without him, but the moment she looked like she was leaving the dinner table, riddle looked away from his conversation for rosier. 

"oh you're ready now?" he said, seemingly unphased as their friends halted their conversation to listen to the two. 

she stared blankly at him for a second before speaking slowly. "you don't have to if you aren't-"

he sighed and stood. "i wouldn't offer if i objected to it."

"you didn't offer, you asked a question."

"semantics."

she looked away from riddle for a moment to their four friends sitting at the table. their confusion and questioning glances had become amused expressions and smirks. every time she met any of their eyes, they looked away as though they would struggle not to laugh if they made eye contact. 

she narrowed her eyes in suspicion and glanced at riddle questioningly. he waved his hand dismissively, giving no real answer to the question she was asking with her eyes. 

"ask," she commanded at the four of them. "i know you want to."

actually, _she_ wanted them to ask. she wanted to clear up whatever assumptions they were making about _anything_ involving her and riddle. it was brief. it was fleeting. it was a memory.

it was nothing.

she was okay with that. she understood it.

malfoy suppressed a laugh. "no, i don't want to know, actually."

"what are you implying?" she asked, fiddling with her ring as rosier choked on a laugh into his cup. 

"i'm not implying anything."

she scoffed. "i detest all of you." 

she stormed off (something she caught herself doing often nowadays) leaving riddle to catch up with her. he seemed to do so with no real effort, even managing to make it to the great hall door, reaching around to pull it open for her. she didn't thank him. 

they walked silently through the halls and up the stairs. there seemed to be an unspoken competition to see who would be the first to break their silence. sicaria broke.

"are you going to explain that to me?" she asked as they turned a corner. she cast _lumos_ silently since the abandoned corridor was rather dark. 

he answered immediately. "explain what?"

"don't play dumb, it doesn't suit you."

"i have no idea what you're talking about." but he had an amused lilt to his voice.

she let out an irritated exhale, biting back a retort about him playing dumb but stifled it. instead, she _alohamora'd_ the door, and then closed it behind her as tom lit all the candles with a lazy flick of his wand. 

she grimaced at the sight and the scent of the room; it had an old sort of musk that made it seem as though it had been decades since this room had been opened. she glided her wandless hand in an 'm' shape over the room, and watched as the dust and mold disappeared into thin air. riddle watched her like a hawk, his eyes flickering between hers and her arm. 

he looked like he was about to speak, so she quickly turned around and warded the door. the first spell was a locking charm. the second spell silenced the room. the third was a nordic runic ward, where she drew a small amount of blood from the back of her hand and etched the illusionary rune for camouflage and deception on the door. it glowed red and then faded into the door. 

"what spell was that?" riddle demanded from across the room. she turned to see that he had silently moved two tables near the chalkboard. 

"nordic rune. it's a more complicated version of a notice-me-not, but it essentially sets an alarm so i'll know if someone's coming."

"what's the incantation?"

"there's no incantation, it's a rune." she said simply, she stuck the tip of her wand into her school bag, and pulled it out. it was followed by a pewter cauldron, several bags and vials of ingredients, a pint of salamander blood, the bottle of vodka, three textbooks, two pieces of parchment and several knives and gloves. 

while she floated and placed the materials, riddle discreetly cast an analytical charm noting that the rune did appear in the trace. he wondered why she had neglected to place this rune on her room. he quickly banished it and instead picked up the parchment she had written out of their procedure. 

"you're handwriting is almost illegible," he murmured, summoning a quill from his own bag and starting to immediately make adjustments to it. 

"you're being melodramatic," she said dismissively, forcing herself not to be offended as he immediately started editing her work. _this is what you needed him for,_ she thought. _to make sure you don't poison yourself._

she found herself staring at him hunched over the parchment. he had taken off his robe and was only in his shirt, pants, and tie. her eyes raked over his body as he scribbled away, tsking and making snide comments about her procedure and research. she watched as locks of his black hair fell forward moving slightly with the speed at which he wrote over her work. she quickly forced herself to turn away, reconstructing the occlumency barriers. 

she forced herself to think about the end goal to put her mind back on track. 

"i've adjusted the the brewing times for the billywig sting and the honeywater. i don't think you'll need baneberry at all since the lionfish vertebrae has similar properties. do you have any objections?"

she thought for a moment before saying, "not that i can think of."

he nodded, and then held up several of the vials. "how did you manage to get your hands on re'em blood?"

"friends in high places," she said, not necessarily lying. he didn't seem satisfied with her answer, but didn't ask any follow up questions, knowing he wouldn't get anything more specific than that. 

she took off her robe and tie, setting them down on a chair and pulled the cauldron toward her. he held out the parchment to her. she took it, carefully avoiding his hand. she scoffed and rolled her eyes at his perfect handwriting. her handwriting wasn't even bad, but everything looked substandard when compared to riddle. 

_you're a government official (barely),_ she thought. _have some faith in yourself._

she took the pint of salamander blood and measured out one liquid ounce of the blood. she poured it slowly into the cauldron, waving her wand to light a simmering fire beneath it. "i'll start on the bloods and ptolemy. if you could, grind the belladonna flowers and griffin claw please." she instructed. she didn't look up as she heard him gather the mortar and pestle. 

the next few moments were silent as they worked on their respective parts, but she couldn't help but feel like it was tense. the silence was becoming unbearable. she added two drops of iguana blood to the mixture of various animal bloods and honeywater before sighing lightly. 

"i adjusted the time for that stage. it needs to be stirred continuously for seven minutes and fifteen seconds." he said and she looked up quickly at the sudden sound. 

"i'd wait to cut the dragon liver then, so it'll be fresh." she said, eyeing the knife he had in his hand. 

"alright."

she conjured the hourglass and watched as the sand trickled down. 

there was six minutes of pure silence. at the six minute mark, he summoned the knife once again and began cutting the dragon liver into almost microscopically thin pieces. 

"you don't want to use gloves?" she asked, still stirring the mixture in the cauldron. 

he looked up after he finished another slice. _how did he manage to make them the same size?_ "would you prefer i did?"

she shrugged. "doesn't matter to me. i've always found the texture to be unpleasant to touch."

he looked down to hide his smirk at her feeble attempt to make conversation. still, he entertained her nonetheless. "you're being melodramatic." he mocked the statement she made earlier in regards to his comment. 

she only rolled her eyes. 

"bring it to a high boil." he commanded as he made his way around the table. she obeyed and he stood unnecessarily close to her as he dropped the five razor thin slices into the cauldron, which immediately changed into a tarlike texture. she decreased the fire so that the bubbles would not burn them as they burst. 

"cast a stasis on the leftover liver, will you? i think it could still be of use." he obliged, and then turned to the chalkboard to write down that step. he had taken to writing out their finalized procedure on the board, which she would later copy on to a parchment. 

•••

more silence. he could practically hear the gears turning in her head, trying not to speak, so he decided to put her out of her misery. 

"do you plan on becoming a potions master?"

she was measuring out the vodka and using several advanced transfiguration spells to separate the ethanol from the other ingredients. she could not look up to speak to him. "god no. potions are too precise; doesn't allow for the same creativity transfiguration requires."

"you reference 'god' often when you speak. are you theist?" he observed.

"it's a figure of speech," she commented. "and no. i don't think many wizards are religious. is that commonplace here?"

he shrugged. "no but many social aspects resemble those of conservative catholicism."

"are you theist?"

"no."

"yet you're very familiar with catholic social cues."

"i was raised catholic."

"muggle or magical?" but she saw his eyes flash before quickly backtracking. "sorry. not my business."

he was silent for a while, the only sound being her dripping the ethanol into the cauldron, which began to make hissing sounds. 

the irony of her apology was the only reason he gave an answer. he had forcibly taken information much more sensitive than this from her, which was the only reason he obliged and gave her an answer. "muggle."

she glanced up at him, but he was not looking at her. she didn't ask any follow up questions.

•••

" _alliges duplicia oxygeni,_ " she casted, but hissed as the bubbles started to fizzle out in the potion. she cradled her hand. "fuck."

her hand burned and then tingled; and she felt her heart beat strengthen in her hand, throbbing madly. she cast an analgesic to numb her hand it looked as though all the blood had drained from it.

"what happened?" he said, looking intently between her eyes, her wand, and the cauldron. 

"i think the binding affected my body and the potion."

he set down the grinder. "why only the blood and not the tissues?"

"the spell was designed for liquids, not solids."

he nodded in understanding, but watched as she cast the second binding enchantment.

" _alliges duplicia carbonis,_ " but she swore again as the sensation returned, the analgesic charm being completely obsolete.

"the analgesic won't work. it numbs nerve endings, but the spell targets the individual atoms."

"so i essentially pulled all the oxygen out of the blood in my hand?"

"it'll be replaced as your heart beats."

she didn't bother telling him she already knew that; he knew that she knew. "would a shield charm work?"

he shook his hand in a 'so-so' motion. "i'm not sure, but we may as well try. may i?" he held out his hand and she placed hers in his with minimal hesitation. he noticed, but did not acknowledge it. she stared at his bone-white wand as he traced her hand with his wand, casting several shield charms and other variations. she felt the heat of his fingers moving delicately over hers. _occlude, occlude, occlude._ he looked at her hand for a moment, before nodding. 

she pulled her hand back and cast the third binding. " _alliges duplicia hydrogenii,_ "

she only winced slightly as her fingertips tingled. 

"how does it feel?"

"not as bad as before." she stretched her fingers a little. "thanks." she added as an afterthought. 

he nodded, and then returned to grinding the root of asphodel in the mortar and pestle. 

"why are you good at everything?" she grumbled angrily.

he smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow at her. "is that a rhetorical question?"

"it is, unless you have an actual answer."

"i don't." _occlude, occlude, occlude._

•••

now, she was cleaning spilled lionfish vertebrae on the floor and he was conjuring an hourglass. they somehow landed on a conversation path discussing (debating) modern politics. 

"power requires bloodshed." he said simply. "to think otherwise is childish."

she snorted. _how angsty._ "you have a very sanguinary worldview."

"It's realistic, i didn't take you as a naïve woman."

"It's not realistic, its almost foolishly cynical. the world is a bad place, but it's not what you make it out to be."

"you're right, it's worse. i intend to change it." he said, cleaning the contaminated knives.

"that's a lot of words to say you want to be a politician."

he did not correct her.

"you'd make a great one i think." she said truthfully. he was charming enough and manipulative enough to be a politician. "if you weren't such a fascist, i might vote for you."

he rolled his eyes at the pseudo-compliment. "i loathe bureaucracy." 

"so you don't deny being a fascist?"

"i am not a fascist."

 _liar._ "so blood supremacy is _not_ part of your political platform?"

he smiled mockingly at her. "politicians adjust their beliefs to garner votes. i am no politician." 

"you'd make an excellent one though. so many words, but you managed to say nothing at all. i'm almost impressed by how easily you dodged that question."

he laughed.

•••

she slumped against the wall after sealing the vials. the final potion was a blood red color. "now that that's over," she derided. "i can go back to being outwardly angry with you."

"what ever for?" he belittled as he waved his wand, instantly clearing all the mess they had made from their (mostly) successful experiment. she still needed to test it. 

she _badly_ needed to test it.

"don't be coy. you essentially burglarized by mind."

he smiled lightly, as if that was a nostalgic memory for him. "oh that? i wasn't aware you were attempting to conceal your anger."

"i was," she dismissed his ridicule. "and i did pretty well considering i didn't hex you."

"are you going to hex me now?" he asked in the tone that one would use to ask for more sugar in his tea.

"no. i want to though." she twirled her wand in her fingers.

he made no move for his wand. "why?"

"why do i want to hex you? what, do you want a list?"

"no, why _aren't_ you going to try to hex me?" he asked impatiently.

she sighed. _to lie or not to lie._ "because you'd retaliate and i'd lose."

_not to lie._

he opened his mouth to speak but then seemed to reconsider whatever it was he was going to say. instead, he said, "i see. so what's my punishment then?" _tantalizing, salacious, obnoxious girl._

"i'm going to berate you."

he pushed himself off the desk he was leaning against. "have at it then."

he was mocking her, and it only made her more angry, so angry that she forgot all of the things she was going to say. every rage thought she had completely blanked from her mind. she blinked at him, and then started with the first things that came to mind. 

"you have to be the most insufferable, entitled, narcissistic person i've ever met." _nice start,_ she scorned herself.

"oh really?" he took a step toward her. 

"you're unbelievably two-faced, and you treat your friends like shit-"

"do i?" another step.

"you walk around as if you're a deity among men, looking down on everyone else here. you ask impolite questions-"

"impolite is a subjective term-"

"-you're a manipulator, and a liar, and for some reason, no teachers seem to pick up on it-"

"yeah?" another step.

"you're a disingenuous, machiavellian little shit-"

"those are synonymous."

"stop interrupting," she yelled exasperatedly. his eyes darkened, this being one of the first times he'd ever heard her raise her voice. "stop responding, stop talking. god, you can't let me have anything can you? no one else is allowed to feel any kind of joy in your presence?"

"does reprimanding me bring you joy, edwards?"

"not when you continuously interrupt and patronize me. sometimes i genuinely wonder if there's something wrong with you- stop fucking smiling at me!"

"hm?" he says, taking another step toward her. she only just realized how close they were. "why? does that make you angry?"

"unbelievably so."

"fine, continue on then." his eyes left hers and instead traced along her body. he heard her breathing pattern change, and basked in the smug feeling.

"you're a sadist-"

"is that a personality flaw?" his hand reached up and traced along her jaw.

 _occlude, occlude, occlude._ "you're insufferable-"

"you've already called me that. you're starting to get repetitive, edwards." he could tell she was frustrated and that he was effectively distracting her from her little tirade. he leaned into her and delicately kissed her neck right above the collar bone. 

she shuddered, he grinned. 

it was cute, in all honesty, seeing her try to emotionally wound him. she'd said nothing he hadn't heard before, except hers was in a much wider vocabulary. she would've had more luck getting a rise out of him if she'd just pulled her wand on him.

"because you _are_ insufferable." it was too late. her voice was less confident than before. 

"does it upset you that you can't hurt me?" he mumbled against her skin, one hand rising to tangle in her hair.

"i can-" he bit her punishingly and she had to bite down on her lip to muffle the sound, but a faint whine was barely audible. he forced himself not to groan at the noise. 

the way she was reacting to him was intoxicating. he wanted to get lost in the sound of her.

"you cant." he cooed, licking the spot he bit. she couldn't tell if he had drawn blood or not.

she stood there, frozen, caught between a rock and a hard place. _what to do, what to do?_

he could get addicted to the taste of her. he told himself not to think such things.

"i hate you." she concluded. "i despise you, abhor you, loathe you-"

_then why am i letting him do this to me?_

_then why are you letting me do this to you?_

"another synonym." he demanded as his hand snaked around her waist, pressing their bodies together. her breath was labored. 

_occlude, occlude, occlude._

she was misled; she thought she was okay, she thought she understood it. 

she did not understand.

_why, why, why, why, why, why?_

"detest, execrate, abominate-"

"any others?" he swirled his tongue over the mark he left on her neck. she shuddered as he moved to another part of her. _enticing, horrible, tormenting girl._

"none of the top of my head." she whispered. 

"come on, be creative. nothing about wanting to kill me?"

she groaned, and was getting ready to push him off of her when he pulled his head back from her neck, pulling her hair slightly to force her to look at him. he looked her directly in the eye, both of their pupils enlarged. "just give in." he whispered.

"what?" she blanked. 

"i can see the occlumency in your eyes. it's already breaking, darling. just give in." the barrier cracked. 

"give in." his hand slid up the column of her throat. the barrier was crumbling.

he whispered again. "give in." his hand tilted her jaw up, tipping her head backward. 

her heart was racing, and she still couldn't make sense of what was going on. she tried to understand him, but every time he did anything to her, another wrinkle was thrown in. he kept her on her toes, and it was getting harder and harder to come up with any sort of answer for the reasoning behind his actions. did he fancy her? did he like messing with her? did he just like kissing her? sicaria had no guesses. 

"do you want me to kiss you, sicaria?" her first name tasted like scandal on his tongue. 

"i'm not going to beg you," she breathed back, and he exhaled and smirked in amusement. the barrier was dust. 

"one day i'll make you," he said, and before she could retort, he pressed his lips against hers, and she didn't hesitate to reciprocate. 

it started slow and intimate, similar to the feeling of the kiss they shared in the quidditch stands. then, he nipped at her bottom lip, and once she opened her mouth, it was a completely different sensation. 

he used his hand that was still tangled in her hair to push her head closer to his.

he was burning her, searing her. it was so painful that it was bliss. he was kissing her furiously, putting so much anger and force behind it that it felt punishing. he picked up the speed, and her mind wandered to how far she'd let him go. 

she didn't want to think. she let him decide for her, and she followed his lead. 

at that moment, sicaria didn't know where this was heading. neither did tom. he knew he would take and take and take, until either she pushed him away or his conscious mind woke up. 

he should stop this now. giving in to temptation was reckless, something he had trained himself not to do. he'd been with other women before, but that felt like more of an obligation. right now, he was barely thinking as he let his body tell him what to do. 

it was the farthest thing from obligation; it was indulgence.

_get rid of her._

_she's untrustworthy and manipulative, get rid of her. now._

_she's just like you. too much like you. get rid of her._

she moved her lips away from his, and he had barely opened his eyes to question her when she kissed his jaw, then further back toward his earlobe. 

the voice faded into nothingness. he groaned in pleasure, unashamed and unshy.

he hoisted her up, using his hands to wrap her legs around him, and turned the two of them around, sitting her on the table. sicaria felt her stomach turn as she felt his hands on her thighs as he held her. the sound of his groans was enough to encourage her she sucked harshly on the skin connecting his neck and earlobe. she licked the red mark she left, and earned a small hiss from him. the hickey was blood splattered on the snow that was his skin. sicaria felt his sounds vibrate against her chest, as he pried her knees apart. he stood between her legs, pulling her thighs toward them to push their bodies closer together. 

_how far are you going to let him go?_

she held his head in her hands as she worked her way back up to his face, where she kissed his lips feverishly. it took no time for him to regain control of the kiss, sucking on her tongue. 

his hands roamed upwards and she moaned softly into his mouth as they slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. he ran his hands across her bare waist, feeling her mostly smooth skin as well as a couple of scars across her body. he wanted to see her so badly.

he wanted to-

the rune the door suddenly started to glow and buzz. she pulled away from him quickly, staring at him for two seconds until they both jumped quickly apart from each other. 

"shit," she hissed, using her wand to quickly put everything back into her bag. riddle dove for his wand, casting a disillusionment charm over the two of them. the room looked as it did before, as though no one was ever here. he felt around for her wrist, pulling her along with him to the door. he killed all the flames they had used to see, and saw the wards fade away from the door. 

"... ickle first years in forbidden hallways? how unfortunate it would be if delusional dippet were to find out about this..." the voice of peeves the poltergeist carried down the hall. riddle relaxed instantly. he heard the terrified pleas of the first years in the corridor, hoping peeves would soon be done with whatever taunting he'd do. 

"it's just the poltergeist," he whispered to her after she hadn't moved. he felt her body tense and then relax, but he still felt her elevated heart rate. he took a few moments to calm his own breathing. 

he blinked several times in the pitch black, trying to make sense of their situation. 

_what the hell was i doing? what the hell am i going to do?_

there was arguing for a moment, and then a small _bang_ but then the hall was silent. he cast a detection charm, and saw no one in the hallway beyond the door. 

" _finite_ ," he said, watching sicaria materialize in front of him. he looked away quickly and cleared his throat. "what time is it?"

she seemed to catch on to his ' _pretend nothing happened_ ' idea and glanced down at her watch quickly. "12:24." he heard the slight waver in her voice

"we best be getting back then," his voice returned to normal, but his mind nor his body seemed to have caught up.

he opened the door, and led her outside, dropping her wrist as though it was on fire.

neither of them spoke a word to each other for the entire long, grueling walk back to the dungeons. he could ignore a kiss and pretend it didn't happen, and seemingly, so could she (or at least fake indifference undetectably), but this wasn't ignorable. they both knew that if it wasn't for peeves, they'd still be in that classroom, doing god-knows-what. 

they were playing with fire. testing the boundaries of human nature.

in his attempt to feign normality, he held open the dungeon door for her. she did not look at him. 

unsurprisingly, their four friends were waiting up to greet them. lestrange smiled as they entered. "ah there you two are! i was starting to-"

but the rest of his sentence faltered away as she did not stop, did not look at them, and did not acknowledge them. 

"edwards?" she didn't even flinch, continuing on as if she heard nothing.

she only continued her stride straight through the common room to her dorm. they were barely able to catch a glimpse of her expression. she looked like she was about to have a panic attack as she disappeared through the dorm hallway.

nott furrowed his brow at her unusually callous behavior, and tried to recall anything they'd recently done to piss her off.

rosier rounded on riddle. "what have you done to her?" he asked hotly, but upon closer inspection of his friend, he paled. and then gaped. and then grinned; the terrifying kind of grin that you never want to see from someone. 

"what?" riddle demanded, seeing his friend's odd change of demeanor.

lestrange stood from his spot on the couch, closing his book and looked at him with a mix of utter disbelief and _pride?_

"no way," nott gasped, and then laughed, turning away from the four of them. "no fucking way."

"i swear to merlin, if you don't-" riddle started. 

"mate," malfoy said incredulously. "what the hell is on your neck?"

riddle wished more than anything he had followed sicaria's lead and gone straight to bed.


	28. xxvi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the depictions of substance abuse i wrote in this chapter have elements from true stories. 
> 
> remember, sicaria's perspective is slightly skewed, not only because of her limited knowledge, but later in the chapter because of her intoxication.

december 1944  
tw: graphic depictions of substance abuse, blood

when sicaria woke up the following morning, she had to take a calming drought before she worked herself into a panic. she was almost nauseous thinking about the lapse in judgement that had led to last night. there weren't enough occlumency barriers in the world to stop her from hypothesizing about what riddle or any of their friends were thinking. she didn't know how to prepare herself at all, not knowing how to play this, nor what he said to them in the common room after she left. 

she felt out of control.

she got dressed, and then sat on her bed, seriously considering not going to any meals today, but that was cowardly. 

sicaria stood with renewed bravery, but stopped short as she passed the mirror. she gazed at herself, looking at the hickeys and the _bite mark_ on her neck. 

she slumped on the floor in defeat, casting way too many more glamours than was necessary, but enough that it looked like there was nothing on her neck. 

she took several deep breaths and stood. she reached for the doorknob, but at the last second swerved back toward the center of her room. 

_stop tearing your hair out,_ she scolded herself as she walked in circles. _he's a boy. just a boy, you nympho. relax._

in fact, she spent so long pacing and thinking that she already had a lie ready for when they inevitably asked why she stormed off last night. 

_i hate him. i hate him so much._

she hated how he made her feel. 

she walked out of her dorm before she manufactured another reason to disappear into nothingness. 

she made her way through the crowded halls the same way she always did every morning, forcing her mind and body to return to normalcy. her pace was determined; she would not be scared away.

"morning," she greeted dropping her bag on the floor next to breakfast table as she sat down on the end of the row next to thomas. she had considered not going, and truly wished she hadn't upon looking at their smug, all-knowing faces. 

if there was a god, she'd thank him personally that riddle was not here.

_merlin give me strength._

"morning," adonis said brightly. too brightly. adrien smiled at her.

"did you have a nice _evening_ , edwards?" abraxas said with as much phony politeness as he could muster. she didn't scowl at him, she just stared.

she stood, set down her coffee before she could even drink it, grabbed her bag and left the hall, hearing _"damn it, malfoy!"_ on her way out. she didn't wait for the newspaper, riddle could have it. 

speak of the devil. she passed him in the hallway on her way out of the hall. she saw him before he saw her, and she noticed that he also had placed glamours along his neck and lips. when he finally laid eyes on her, he seemed to stiffen slightly, but nodded in acknowledgement at her in the same manner he always did. 

_she's leaving early,_ he thought. _what have those idiots said now?_

they passed each other, making no further eye contact, but they barely made it ten feet away from each other before sicaria was stopped in her tracks. 

"ah, miss edwards," her head snapped to the left and she let out an exasperated sigh as leonov seemed to materialize from the shadows. "i've been meaning to speak to you."

"not now, leonov," she tried to continue away from him and his group of friends, some of which she recognized from the bar. some of the others were steven taylor, and his friends he'd used in the failed attack on her. she leered warily at them. she wondered if riddle was still in the hallway. 

_stop thinking about him._

"call me alexei," he said happily, ignoring the fact that she just said she didn't want to talk to him. 

"fine _alexei,_ " she sneered. "i'm busy, we'll talk later." she heard their amused chuckles and felt sick.

again, he ignored her protests. "i wondered if you've given my proposition any further thought?"

_his what? his-_

_oh._

"i've already said i'd go with someone else," she said blankly. 

his face contorted with ill-concealed rage as he pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, trying to use his height to intimidate her. she looked back at him, bored and he smirked. "you have, have you?"

"why would i lie?"

his lip twitched. "yes, why would you? how unfortunate, i was so looking forward to accompanying you."

"very unfortunate for you." she said, turning away. 

"you'll save me a dance, won't you?" he called after her. 

"if it'll get you to leave me alone," she said back, but wished she hadn't as four other boys from the group said things to the extent of, _'what about me?'_

they laughed, she grimaced and continued walking. she hated that they were joking at her expense, and now, she was dreading the dance entirely. 

it was still an early saturday morning, and she didn't have any more interrogations planned until tuesday. she didn't want to think about work.

upon reentering her dorm, she flopped down on her bed.

sicaria didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until she had woken back up.

she stared up at her ceiling, feeling unbelievably bored with nothing to do, but this was decidedly better than having to sit in front of riddle at breakfast, the six of them avoiding the elephant in the room. or worse, having to talk about it. 

how could she talk about it if she was procrastinating thinking about it?

she groaned and rolled over, suffocating herself into her pillow. the last thing she wanted to think about was riddle. she hadn't taken the time to sort through the kiss, and he'd never made any effort to talk about it. she'd avoid it if he wanted her to. she was okay with that. she understood. 

she wasn't okay with that. 

but she didn't want to think about riddle right now. 

_riddle._

she leapt out of bed, knocking the lamp on her bedside table over as she rushed toward her dresser where she picked up one of the 13 vials of potion. the original batch had fit into fifteen vials, but riddle asked to keep two. she obliged because it was more than fair, since a good portion of it was his work. 

_ration them,_ she thought to herself as she turned the vials over in her hand. _you may need them more later._

she ignored it though, and her face broke out into a smile as she held the blood-red potion in her hands. she set them back down, and opened the drawer where she kept her stash. 

the sight of it sent her into a frenzy, and she didn't even bother to use her wand to pull out a line. she just poured some of the powder straight into the palm of her hand, staring at it for a moment before tilting her head back and inhaled it.

she licked the leftover residue off her palm moaning as her tongue and throat went numb. 

her arm shot out and slid the vials off the dresser into the drawer below. she aimed her wand at the door, painting a large red 'x' on it so she'd remember not to leave.

 _what to do, what to do?_ she smiled so hard it strained her face as she felt the euphoria starting to kick in, the smile dropped quickly after as she felt her face start to numb. 

_it's so hot in here. why is it so hot in here?_ she slid her robes off, flinging it across the room somewhere.

she stood, looking around her room and decided that before she lost her mind entirely, she'd set out the rest of her lines. she mumbled to herself the same way she would if she was here talking to someone. 

she knew her limit. anything more than six lines at once was dangerous territory. 

she laughed manically and looked up at the ceiling, wondering if her parents ghosts could see her now? what would they think? she hoped they'd be disappointed. she readjusted herself and looked down at the ground, forgetting that if there was a god, he'd surely have placed priscilla and oliver in hell.

so she lined up four, using her wand this time to make straight, perfect lines of the powder on her dresser. she put the rest of it back in the drawer and set several wards over it so that once she was high, she couldn't get more. high sicaria wasn't as strong as sober sicaria, but she would be determined. 

she stood and spun around in a circle, feeling so, so, _so_ bored. _what to do, what to do?_ she looked away from the windows and the lamps as her eyes started to burn from the bright lights. 

the spinning reminded her of the time that she'd seen the ballet _swan lake._ she spun some more, thinking about how swans do not move like that. _it's art,_ she thought to herself. _don't be an idiot. it's not supposed to be taken literally._

she glanced down at her watch. _4:27. how long was i asleep?_

she whirled around again, looking for something to do when her eyes landed on the vodka bottle. 

"no," she yelled at herself as her body took her to the bottle. her mind was fighting with her body as she had the bottle in her hand. she brought it to her lips before yelling again. "fuck no." 

she couldn't drink. 

it would have been different if it was champagne or wine, but there was too much alcohol in this, and mixing high alcohol content with coke was dangerous territory. she wondered if they'd serve champagne at the dance, and if they did, would she decide to do a few more lines?

she ran to her bathroom, and stood in front of the sink. she stared at herself in the mirror, pupils blown. her jaw dropped at her reflection. 

and she looked _ethereal._

she stared at herself in the mirror as she poured the last of the vodka down the drain so she wouldn't be tempted. she still didn't remove her eyes from herself as she heard the bottle shatter, not realizing it had slipped out of her hand. she didn't even flinch. she stared at herself, leaning closer and closer to the mirror as the edge of the sink dug into her hips. 

her heartbeat was forceful and strong in her ears as she leaned into the mirror, prodding and pulling at her skin as she stared and smiled at herself. when had she ever looked this beautiful? she slid her hands down her face, watching as the waterline of her eyes pulled down with the skin and how it snapped back into place the moment her hands left. when had she ever looked this beautiful?

_does riddle think i'm pretty? is that why he kissed me?_

sicaria laughed in the mirror, looking at how her chest rose and fell as she took huge breaths, hyperventilating. she pulled the glamour charms off of her as she stared at the marks he'd left on her in awe.

she loved them. she hoped he'd make more.

if he wouldn't she'd find someone who would. she frowned at the thought; she didn't think she'd like them as much if it wasn't riddle who was leaving them on her.

she hickeys on her neck were so pretty. she wanted to keep them forever; for why had she ever decided to put glamours on them? she ran her fingers over her bruised lips, smiling to herself as she remembered the feeling of him kissing her, licking her, biting her, touching her. 

coke might've been euphoria, but riddle's touch was _ecstasy._

she ran her fingers over the bite mark, shivering as she remembered his touch on her. 

she couldn't place the emotion she was feeling. desire?

_is he going to touch me again?_

_would i let him?_

_you should go talk to him._

_i should go talk to him._ she nodded as she took one last glance at herself in the mirror watching as her face contorted, though she couldn't feel it changing. she had every intention of roaming the castle until she found him and demanded-

 _wait_. 

what was she going to demand?

what did she _want?_

she stepped out of her bathroom back into her dorm where she walked in the direction of the door, but stopped as she saw the four remaining lines of coke sitting on her dresser. 

it only then hit her that she was nearing the come down, so she leaned over and snorted another line, feeling the new wave of exhilaration course through her body. there was no way of knowing if the sensation was placebo or not, but sicaria swore that every time she inhaled, she felt the drug course through her veins all the way down through her fingertips.

_right, now what was i going to do?_

she saw the crescent moon though the window, and thought about werewolves. a newspaper article from last week said that the french government was putting new tyrannical regulations on known lycanthropes. she wondered if there was a support system for wolves in britain, but remembered in defense against the dark arts, professor merrythought said something about british wizards' phobia of werewolves stemming from fear. 

_you're a wizard? why are you afraid of a wolf?_

_who's afraid of a wolf?  
_

_virginia woolf?_ she gasped as she thought of the author and started to tear up slightly, thinking about her death four years ago. _did i bring any of her books with me?_

she ran over to the shelf where all of her books were, throwing the several off the shelves in search of _mrs dalloway,_ a book written by woolf in 1925. _oedipus rex, les misérables, aesop's fables, quidditch through the ages-_

quidditch. adonis, adrien, abraxas. she laughed at the thought of them. she was supposed to be mad at abraxas right now, but somehow it all felt very insignificant. christmas was in a few weeks, and she'd be spending at least a portion of it with them, thomas, and tom. that reminded her that she needed to get them gifts. she didn't know if she was excited or dreading it, but all she could do was hope that whatever was going on between her and riddle would be resolved by then. she thought about what would happen when she left. she would miss them, which was bad. 

she started to tear up at the thought of having to leave them, but realistically, after their graduation, she'd likely just disappear and they'd never see her again. would they forget about her? she wondered if she'd forget them, especially since they were some of the only friends she'd even had, no matter how often they screwed her over. 

lying to them was the first time she'd ever felt guilty in her life. 

_don't be sad. do another line, that'll make you happy._

she obliged the voice without hesitation. it worked. she was happy again. 

she tripped over one of the books she'd thrown from her shelf and sat down, going through the pile. she forgot that she was looking for _mrs dalloway,_ or perhaps she just didn't care anymore. 

_treasure island, mansfield park, twelfth night, iliad-_

her eye caught on one book on her self. _coping mechanisms 101._ it was the book that healer miranda had given her after her stay at the hospital. she picked it up, looking through the table of contents and she laughed. 

she laughed so hard her throat hurt. 

she laughed so hard that she coughed, laying back on the floor, still unable to stop laughing. 

it was cold, so cold. why had she ever taken her robes off? she slid her hand along the floor, grasping for her wand, but could not seem to give it much effort since she was still too busy laughing. her abdominals contracted.

she laughed so hard that tears streamed down her eyes. she did another line, and laughed some more. 

it took at least five minutes for her to calm down, and she rolled over on the cold floor, skimming through the chapters. she appreciated that the healer had given her the book that consisted of the actual psychological explanations behind the ideas rather than just a book of commands. it felt more like a medical textbook than a self help book. 

she read, and traced her hands over the long words that she couldn't understand. knowing latin helped will deciphering medical terms, but not enough that she could suddenly understand what it meant. her entire healing knowledge was comprised of healing life threatening ailments, healing dark magic curses, and addiction symptoms (though she was not an addict). anything that had to do with the brain or any other terminal illness was far out of her league.

she felt a drop of blood slip out of her nose, and she licked her upper lip; the metallic taste on her tongue. she turned back to the front page, and saw a note in the healers handwriting scribbled in the corner. 

_i'd like to speak with you again in a few weeks to see how you're doing. please owl me a note or stop by any time. if you don't decline, i'll know you haven't opened the book._

_-miranda_

"fuck you," sicaria hissed at the book and waited for it to respond. it didn't, but after several moments, she stood. somewhere in the book, she saw the words _medicate_ and _naturally,_ and decided that all she wanted to do right now was meditate in nature. 

she looked out her window, and wondered if there was ice on the lake yet. if not, she thought about going for a swim. 

_the lake. i want to swim in the lake._

she snorted the last line she set out, somewhat sad that it was all gone. she'd cross that bridge when she returned, she decided that a few more wouldn't be too dangerous. sicaria disillusioned and silenced herself, ignoring the fading red lines over her door. she forgot what she even put them there for. 

the common room was empty when she crept through the dungeon. she hadn't realized how much time had passed, nor how dark it was. she whispered _lumos,_ not realizing that a) she was silenced, and b) she didn't have her wand. 

the castle was chilling when it was empty, and she shivered even as she was sweating. 

_where am i going again?_

she gasped silently when she looked at the courtyard, seeing the moonlight creeping through the trees. forgetting her task, she walked over through the courtyard, and sat in the shadow of one of the trees. she stared at the moon and watched as the wind pushed the branches of the trees in all directions, watching as the flowers and leaves showered her. 

it was freezing cold. she didn't care. or maybe she couldn't feel it. 

the dark night was soothing to her eyes, but she closed them nonetheless and focused on the sounds surrounding her. the rustling of the leaves and the whisper of the wind enraptured her. she heard the sounds of creatures of the knight, owls hooting and other nocturnal's scuttling around nearby. 

she opened her eyes at a new sound. footsteps, lots of them. and voices, but hushed voices. her eyes shot open as she recognized them. she smiled widely, clamoring to stand, but then frowned as she forgot she was still disillusioned, and had left her wand in her room. 

she watched as her five friends walk down the hallway as she crawled to the edge of the courtyard as quickly and quietly as she could. 

"... won't really notice when we're gone. do you think _she_ will?" malfoy said.

she watched the back of nott's head as he shrugged. "she's smart enough to know when not to ask questions."

rosier snorted. "that's if she even still wants to come."

sicaria stilled. _who is 'she'?_

"why wouldn't she?"

"why _would_ she? what with abraxas calling her a whore every chance he gets, and riddle treating her like-"

oh. 

_'she' is me._ she smiled dopily at the fact they were talking about her.

"like what?" riddle interrupted. "don't speak about things you know nothing about."

"explain it to us then." lestrange prompted. "do you fancy her, or are you going to use her and then ruin our friendship with her?"

sicaria frowned at the thought that lestrange thought their friendship was so fragile, but in all honesty it was. she wanted to cry, and she wanted to console lestrange. she'd lie and say she'd always be friends with him as long as it made him happy. she'd lie to make him happy, if that's what he wanted. 

"i'm not _using_ her, and nothing i do will affect you whatsoever." they all snorted at his obvious lie. 

_is he using me?_

even if he was, she didn't know what she'd do about it. 

she'd let him use her.

_i'd let him use me, i think._

_you're fucking pathetic._

"okay then explain it to _me_." rosier insisted. "explain why you told me to ask her instead of taking her yourself."

_he- what?_

riddle said nothing. 

nott spoke up, his voice starting to fade. "if she finds out about that, she'll never ..."

the five of them turned the corner and the last of that conversation was lost. 

_riddle told rosier to ask me to the dance?_

_why?_

too much thinking, her head was starting to hurt. 

she laid down on the ground in a starfish position, feeling the blades of grass and dead leaves ticking her limbs. her fingers were going numb from the cold, and she felt like she was about to cry. 

she needed another line.

she stood up off the ground, brushing the leaves away from her legs. she looked down and noticed that she had neglected to put shoes on. she giggled in pure elation, but felt herself tearing up as her high started to slip away.

she took several wrong turns, stumbling upon some prefects arguing in the hallway. she slipped past them, neither party seeming to realize that she was there.

she sprinted back to the common room, thanking the universe that it was empty as she ran to her room and slammed the door behind her. 

her lungs burned as she hyperventilated; a symptom both of the comedown of the drug and her running throughout the hallways. 

she leaned against the door, and summoned her wand to her. she moved her arms and slid her lower body along the floor to the dresser where she kept the drugs.

 _no, no, fuck,_ she thought as she ran her wand along the wards she'd placed their earlier. her brain was moving too fast to come up with a specific counter or curse-breaking method to get through the wards. _why did she do that? why the fuck would she do that?_

she stood up and stuck her tongue out and licked the spot where she had snorted the earlier lines. there was something there, but not enough. _"fuck!"_

she kicked the dresser in anger. she didn't feel the pain. or maybe, she didn't care. she heard the blood drip from her foot, and the splat it made when she stepped around the room.

she tried to do a hard inhale to pull any remnants she had leftover in her nose. she sniffed so hard that surely her nose was bleeding. she felt her sinuses swelling and she ran to the bathroom once again, and turning on the water. 

she pulled off her skirt, standing in the mirror with only her shirt and underwear on. she ran her skirt under the water and pulled it up to her nose, inhaling the water. 

she coughed as it burned her throat, but she continued to inhale, trying to use the water droplets to get every last particle of the drug back into her nervous system. 

_you're fucking pathetic._

she crawled out of her bathroom, not having the energy to walk, nor having the energy to care about the shards of the vodka bottle digging into her hands, feet, and knees. 

her arms rose as she attempted to pull her self into bed, but instead she rolled over on the floor, laughing at the blood trickling down her arms as she cried herself to sleep on the cold dungeon floor.

"you are fucking pathetic."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part where she tries to snort water is a common tactic used by addicts to use the water to chase down any remaining cocaine in their nose and respiratory tract.


	29. xxvii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are a few french translations, but they're near the end of the chapter, so i put them in the notes at the end.

december 1944

the potion was perfect. as perfect as it possibly could be. 

after sicaria had pulled the glass out of her skin and closed all the wounds, her room was still in complete disarray when she woke up in a pool of blood on sunday morning. 

the comedown was always worse than the withdrawal, so she always made sure to be asleep during it. the potion was designed to get her through the withdrawal. she uncorked the vial and downed it quickly. it tasted like lemon juice, and somewhat made her throat tingle as it went down. 

she held her breath, waiting for the potion to take affect. for a second, she felt absolutely nothing but disappointment, thinking that it hadn't worked. only a moment later, her body felt so tired for a minute that she started to panic, searching for a bezoar because she thought she was dying, but then, the feeling in her limbs returned, and her body felt completely normal. 

she smiled, widely. this was the best gift the universe could've given her. 

she waved her wand quickly, reorganizing her bookshelf, repairing the ripped parchments scattered about, banishing the dried blood, getting rid of the glass, and repairing her ripped skirt. she peeled the dirty, sweaty clothes off her body and stepped into the shower, cleaning the night off of her as she tried to recall everything that happened the previous night and morning. she stuck her head out the shower and looked at her watch, seeing that it was 3 p.m. on the dot. she decided that she might as well skip dinner as well. she was starving, but she had no desire to leave her room at the moment.

while the potion cured all the physical effects that would come with a withdrawal, it did nothing to improve her mood. she found herself being gradually dampened as memories from the previous night began to flood in. 

she was sitting on her bed, lazily writing an analytical report for macusa when a memory from last night killed her contentment entirely. 

_explain why you told me to ask her instead of taking her yourself._

so many options on how to explore this little plot twist. she found herself turning over her options, but all of them seemed to end in another fight and since they'd be spending christmas together, being in a fight would be the last thing they needed.

still, she needed a why. _why_ did riddle ask rosier to take her? _why_ did rosier oblige? _why_ didn't riddle ask her himself?

she sighed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. _know when to choose your battles._ she pushed all the anger into the back of her mind and decided that unless they screwed up again, she'd just let it go. for now.

the following morning was a monday. she felt her stomach collapsing in on itself.

"morning," she said, slipping into her seat at the table. surprisingly, riddle was here before she was today. they all looked shocked to see her. she did her best not to react as she felt the cloud of dark magic once again hovering around them. she wondered if they had been experimenting, or doing a set of rituals, but she killed her curiosity immediately. if they were diving into dark magic rituals, she didn't want to know.

"mor-" nott started, but was cut off by rosier. 

"where the hell have you been?" 

she looked at him questioningly. "in my dorm?"

"for two days straight?" he continued when she nodded. "what about food?"

she pointed her fork at him. "hence why i'm eating right now. have i missed anything important?"

he hesitated. she noticed. "no not particularly."

"then why are you so upset?" she was being a bitch, she knew it, but it was particularly hard to care at the moment. 

when rosier didn't have an answer, malfoy scoffed. "well _actually,_ you have missed something rather important."

she raised an eyebrow. "oh?"

"i've got a date for the dance," he said proudly. 

_i don't care._ "who's the unfortunate woman?"

"angela bancroft." he said, sneering at her insolence. "lestrange is going with her sister. sandy, right?"

sicaria thought for a moment, trying to recall the two of them. she remembered after a moment; they were twin sisters, but she couldn't tell them apart. all she knew was that one of them was a slytherin and the other was a hufflepuff. "seems you two got rather lucky then."

"don't be bitter," malfoy retorted. "i'm sure one day you'll find someone who'll put up with you."

she scoffed. 

•••

_"i apologize for abraxas' behavior on saturday."_

sicaria forgot to put ' _find the counterincantation for this spell_ ' on her to do list, but if riddle was going to keep bothering her in class, she'd make sure to figure out a way out of it. _"stop apologizing for him."_

_"you're upset with me." yes._

_"do i have a reason to be?"_ she responded instead.

_"it seems as though you do. enlighten me."_

_"how about you list every shitty thing you've done to me and i'll tell you which one i'm mad about."_

_"you're being immature."_

_"am i?"_

he did not speak to her again. sicaria tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently. 

"now, pair up into groups of two and practice that combination. do it at different tempo's verbally and nonverbally, if you can. i'll be around if you need assistance." merrythought said, waving her wand to make the desks disappear. 

sicaria stood, preparing to partner with nott or riddle as she usually did, but a gryffindor, diane thompson, was asking to partner with him. sicaria raised an amused eyebrow at a panicked nott, who was being dragged away by diane. 

"sicaria!" a voice called from behind her. she whirled around and smiled as she saw the head girl, katherine, walking toward her. "can we be partners? i'd like to speak to you for a moment."

riddle stepped toward her before sicaria could respond. he narrowed his eyes and his tone seemed threatening. "what do you need her for?"

katherine was clearly intimidated, but she didn't back down. "nothing you need to concern yourself with. come along, sicaria."

turns out, it had everything to do with riddle. 

"headmaster dippet wanted riddle and i to go to the dance together." katherine said after casting a _muffliato_ over the two of them. she had been making polite conversation for a moment as they practiced merrythoughts spells, but the head girl abruptly changed the situation.

sicaria blanked for a moment. "no offense, but why are you telling me this?"

katherine smiled wistfully. "he's not giving me an answer though. for some reason, he thinks that i actually _wanted_ to go with him, but i just follow orders." she said as she casted a lazy shield against sicaria's half-assed disarming charm. 

"right," sicaria nodded. "i'm still not understanding where i fit into all of this though."

"are you going with him?"

"no." she said quickly.

katherine winced slightly as she was a second too late in casting her shield. sicaria tossed her wand back to the girl. "is he going with anyone?" 

"not that i know of."

"well do you think you can convince him to give me a definite answer so i can go with my boyfriend?"

"i'll see what i can do." what did katherine expect her to do? why didn't she ask malfoy or rosier or really any of the boys, who'd have a much better chance at getting him to do them a favor?

furthermore, what the hell did she expect sicaria to do? _why did she involve me at all?_

class was over, and she ignored riddles demands to tell him what katherine had said to her. he pestered and pestered, and it made sicaria wonder what it was that katherine knew that riddle so desperately didn't want sicaria to know.

"you're being a bitch again," he growled in her ear in frustration as they packed away their things. 

"go to hell," she narrowed her eyes at him. her plan about hiding her anger was not going well. 

why he felt that he had _any_ right to be angry with her was a mystery to sicaria. he stormed out of the room without waiting for her and the rest of the knights as he usually did. _why's he in a piss poor mood?_

"miss edwards," professor merrythought called after her before she could leave. "stay back for a moment."

"professor?"

"come have a spot of tea with me." she requested, gliding over to her office before even seeing if sicaria had obliged or not. of course, she did. no one ever denied a talk with professor merrythought. 

"thank you, professor. to what do i owe the pleasure?" sicaria said as the office door magically closed behind her.

the woman shrugged, and flicked her wand, pulling two teacups seemingly out of thin air. "you seemed upset. also i'd like to pick your brain a bit." merrythought's office was an exact reflection of her personality. on the walls, silver frames held several baroque art pieces, some still and some moving. there were also several pieces of parchment denoting legislatures and petitions she had written. there was a cabinet in the far left corner, and on the right, a large bookshelf filled with texts that had to be centuries old, or at least glamoured to look that old. there were faint traces of dark magic spilling from the shelf. in the center of the room sat her desk, which was surrounded by two chairs on the front side, and one on the back. the desk was covered in several magical items that gave off colorful puffs of steam, or simply moved aimlessly around the desk. the whole room was tinged in a faint green glow from the stained glass that painted her windows.

the two women sat down in professor merrythought's office and talked for much longer than sicaria had expected. merrythought happened to be an excellent conversationalist, and even though they had nearly twenty-five years between them, merrythought still felt young. 

this was why sicaria was so shocked when the professor told her she'd be retiring after this school year.

"but you're so young," sicaria frowned. 

the woman chuckled slightly. "i've been teaching since i was twenty, i think i deserve a bit of a break."

sicaria always wondered why the british drink of choice was tea, since it went cold so quickly (though their conversation had been anything but brief). it didn't occur to her to warm it up using a spell. "what will you do? after you leave, i mean."

"i'm not so sure yet, but i'll cross that bridge when i get there," she set her teacup down and leaned across her desk, placing her chin in her hands. "so what has you so upset dear? we may be near equals magically, but i think i have a few years experience in life troubles."

sicaria was taken aback by the compliment, but then remembered to respond to the other part of the question. "oh it's nothing important-"

"ah, so it's a boy isn't it?" merrythought smiled knowingly.

"how did you-"

"an old woman with nothing to do except teach and listen to gossip, dear. i've been at this school for years, i've seen a thing or two. if i guess which, will you tell me if i'm correct?"

"you aren't old," sicaria gave an amused sort of huff. "but sure, it it'll entertain you."

merrythought took a sip from her cup and tapped her chin in thought. "i'll exclude your friends, i doubt it's any of them. potter seems to glance at you quite often, but you don't seem to reciprocate."

"potter?" he was the _last_ person sicaria expected merrythought to say. she'd had maybe one conversation with potter ever, and it's contents were purely academic.

"fleamont potter? sits right there beside leonov." her eyes narrowed for a moment behind her glasses. "it's not leonov, is it?"

she shook her head furiously. "god, no."

merrythought gave her a sharp nod, like she was glad that sicaria wasn't interested in leonov. "you don't really seem like a sports girl, otherwise i'd say mendoza," sicaria stored that piece of information away for later. mendoza was the seeker for the slytherin quidditch team, and she'd had several polite conversations with him, most of them consisting of him being happy to finally be able to talk to someone in his first language. after all, how many people people at this british wizarding school knew spanish? "you go for academics don't you? someone on your intellectual level?"

"i don't really have a type, but i like being able to hold an intelligent conversation with someone."

"good. then it's riddle, isn't it?"

sicaria's eyes widened. "you said you didn't think it was one of my friends." _how the hell did she-_

"i lied, but it is? i never thought i'd see the day. wow, that was a shot in the dark!" she clapped her hands happily. "are you going to the ball with him?"

"i-" she cleared her throat from the shock. "no, i'm going with adonis."

"rosier? he's a nice boy, bit of a tramp, but why?" sicaria finally decided that teachers weird opinions of students was just part of british culture.

"professor!" she gasped with exaggerated indignation. 

merrythought shushed her and brought her teacup to her lips once more. her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "am i incorrect? regardless, tell me why."

"it's complicated."

"matters of the heart always are. make it simple for me, dear." sicaria scoffed. _the heart._ she didn't tell merrythought that their entire romance consisted of two kisses and one attempted hook up; that would likely send her into cardiac arrest. 

_am i really about to discuss my private life with a professor?_ "riddle was the one who told him to ask me."

merrythought blinked. "i don't understand."

"nor do i."

"you aren't angry?"

"i am, but i decided that i'd be gracious due to the holiday spirit. by that i meant, that i'd let it slide as long as they didn't continue to make decisions for me."

merrythought waved her hand dismissively, a devious glint in her eye. "oh to hell with that. if i were you, i'd go with _neither_ of them."

"but i've already agreed to spend christmas with them." sicaria frowned. 

"dear, you hold all the power." she grabbed sicaria's hand. her rings dug into sicaria's skin roughly as she encouraged her student. "go to the ball with _neither_ of them, and then make it clear that you're postponing your anger until after the holidays."

sicaria hummed in thought. "i'll keep that in mind, professor." sometimes she forgot that professor merrythought was a slytherin. sicaria started to wonder if she might be more slytherin than ravenclaw, like she originally thought.

"i'd like to duel you, miss edwards. the minute after you graduate."

"i look forward to it, professor."

•••

the following weekend was a hogsmeade trip, and it had started to snow. sicaria had finally gotten a better reign in on her anger at the five of them, and was able to hide it much better. still, she enjoyed their company as she went with them to hogsmeade, having a drink in the same bar they had met in last time. 

she split off from them earlier, to do a bit of holiday shopping.

turns out, shopping for them was much harder than she thought it would be. they all seemed rich enough to be able to buy anything she wanted to buy for them. she'd have to get creative.

she had a few ideas for the christmas gifts she'd buy them, and she decided that no matter how upset she was, she'd regret it if she didn't buy them a gift. there was a small shop near the edge of the village where she found a bunch of magical antiques. there, she bought a vintage chess set, with pieces that bled when they were killed. she thought that was a bit morbid, but thomas would appreciate it nonetheless. 

at the post office, she set off and received several letters. one of the assets in her parents will that they wanted sicaria to liquidate was their share in a quidditch corporation owned by a business partner of theirs. though she couldn't manipulate or sell the stock yet, the ownership was still in her name, but she gave all of the power that came with her share back to the owner. in exchange, he did small favors for her. she mailed him, and he was able to get her two tickets for the one-week training session with puddlemore united. the program was supposed to take place in summer of 1945, which meant that all the slots were booked, but when you have allies in high places, it's easy to make the impossible possible. rosier never seemed to like quidditch as good as he was, so she decided she'd give these to lestrange and malfoy. 

she still had no idea for what to give rosier and riddle. she'd think about that later. 

the other letter she received was from new york. she'd sent a memo saying that she'd be leaving the castle over christmas to develop a potential suspect(s) (not quite a lie, but not exactly the truth). while she'd expected a letter from the secretary granting her permission, she was surprised to see a letter from eileen vota. 

before opening to read it, she cast a _for my eyes only_ charm, and then tore it open. the letter said that she wanted to meet with sicaria one-on-one to discuss the progress of the case and evaluate the request. she scowled slightly; this meant that there was a chance that they'd deny her request, but she decided that she'd go whether or not they said she could. vota was the chairwoman of the panel, which explained why she'd have the authority to meet with sicaria independently. 

•••

"what color is your dress? i'll have to find a tie to match."

sicaria caught back up with the boys later in the day, and they were now on the way back up to the castle. all the gifts and letters she got were in her purse, and she walked side-by-side next to rosier as the other four walked several paces ahead of them. she shrugged. "don't know yet. do you have any preference?"

"are you asking me what i think you should wear? i don't think you should give me that power."

she rolled her eyes. "fine. it'll be black." _don't do it._ "have you told the others we're going together?" the moment she asked, she wished she hadn't. she was instigating; giving him the perfect opportunity to lie to her. she watched his reaction closely to see if she could make note of any of his tells when he lied. 

"they know i have a date, but not that it's you," he lied effortlessly, and if she hadn't known it to be untrue, she would've believed him. "why? when do you want to?"  
  
she swallowed her indignation and forced herself to be polite. "whenever you're ready."

he made an uncomfortable face, making it seem like he was choosing his words wisely. "you know," he started carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. "i wouldn't be offended if you wanted to go with... someone else."

something snapped. perhaps he had good intentions, but something about their collective manipulation angered her deeply. all the rage she had fought so hard to conceal was fighting to come to the surface, but a plan blossomed in her mind. 

she took a deep breath to calm her anger, but instead her mind dove back to the conversation she had with merrythought. "really?"

he seemed stunned and somewhat smug, eyeing the four walking ahead of them. he seemed to let his eyes linger on them for a moment longer before turning back to respond to her. "of course not, as long as you're happy."

she smiled at him, but to her it felt more like a sneer, not that he was able to tell the difference. "thank you." she wrapped her arms around him, but wondered if she was overdoing it. she felt like she was being too obviously deceptive, but he didn't seem to notice as he hugged her back, chuckling. "you know laurelie greendale don't you? she's a sixth year, but i think she'll make an excellent replacement, no?" 

she had already knew laurelie would say ' _yes_ ' when adonis asked her.

•••

"you know i don't like you, right?" davies said without looking up from his book. 

she found him in the library, hiding away in the muggle fiction section. he was supposed to be stocking the shelves, but as always when sicaria saw davies, he was huddled in a corner, eyes dancing across the tattered old pages. his snarky comment was prompted by her asking if he wanted to go to the dance with her. 

she had other options, but he was the safest. he hated her, he wouldn't try anything, and he wouldn't be offended when she inevitably left the dance early. 

"of course i know that, that's why it's perfect. _i_ get to irritate them, _you_ get to irritate them, and you only have to be around me for ten minutes." davies didn't like anyone, it seemed, and he was spiteful enough that he'd love the chance to annoy someone, even if it meant he'd be suffering too. sicaria and davies were similar. 

"dumb fucking plan, you have," he muttered and she scoffed. "what will i get in return?"

 _not like i didn't expect it._ "what do you want?"

he thought for a moment, and looked up from his book with a tilted eyebrow. "i recall you saying something about having an original copy of _the picture of dorian grey_."

her jaw dropped. "you know that's worth several thousand galleons right?"

"so is my time."

she grit her teeth. "fine. do we have a deal?"

"we do." he tilted his head down, signaling that he was done listening to her. his lip curled. "i'll have to alert the masses won't i? perhaps a letter to the queen?"

"fuck off, davies."

•••

"why is davies saying he's going to the dance with you?" lestrange demanded the moment she entered his line of sight.

"because he is?" she said, taking a seat at the dinner table.

"what? i thought you were goi-" malfoy started, but he was shushed by nott. sicaria smirked.

"going with who?" she urged him to continue. "with who? adonis? it seemed that he was under the impression i wanted to go with someone else."

"i didn't mean _davies._ "

"i know who you meant." she affirmed. riddle's eyes were burning her, but she did not meet his gaze. "did you truly think that i wouldn't find out that you all planned to have him ask me to the ball?"

silence. she laughed, stabbing lightly at her potatoes with a fork.

"i don't understand. " nott confessed slowly. it seemed like the entire hall was alight, but their section of the table was being weighed down by some sort of negative aura. "how did you-"

"doesn't matter how i found out. i was going to let it go, i really was, but then he told me that he wouldn't be offended if i wanted to go with _someone else_. was there someone specific you had in mind, adonis?"

riddle finally spoke. "how many times have i told you to mind your damn business, rosier?"

"oh you're one to talk, as if it wasn't you who started this whole thing." she sneered at him. she wasn't sure if her motive was her anger or their unresolved sexual frustration. either way, she had to force herself to look away when he clenched his jaw. "but regardless, the manipulation attempt was lazy, so i took control of the situation."

"so you decided to go with _davies_?" 

"i did." she shrugged. "am i going to get a reason? or do i have to figure that out too?"

silence. 

"no? alright." she didn't like they continuously made decisions for her, and then put her in lazily manipulated situations to try to get her to react a certain way. they'd have to be a lot more cunning, and actually put the effort in if they wanted to pull a fast one on her. "did you ever plan on telling me?" 

"there was no point," rosier sighed. "i was happy to go with you, it didn't matter!"

"but you framed it like you were saving me from a bunch of other men. what was the real reason?" she responded in a similar tone.  
  
they all stared blankly at rosier, and all went eerily silent. she scoffed.

"need an easier question? would you have asked me if there was no little scheme?"

once again, he was silent. _no, i wouldn't have._ in fact, he'd be doing everything in his power to get riddle to ask her. in rosier's mind, the only reason that sicaria and riddle weren't going together was because riddle had vehemently insisted that he would not ask her "it was two birds with one stone; part of it was for your benefit."

" _q_ _ui court deux lievres a la fois, n'en prend aucun,"_ she recited the old french proverb. it essentially meant that if you chase two goals at once, you'll achieve none of them. sicaria didn't know that he actually did achieve one of his goals. 

" _il était censé faire d'une pierre deux coups!_ "

" _eh bien, ça s'est retourné contre toi, n'est-ce pas?_ " their four other friends eyes were passing between the two as they spoke in french, none of them being able to understand what the pair were saying. they inferred from the tone of their words that they were still arguing fiercely.

he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. " _je comprends que tu es en colère, j'ai menti, mais ça n'a vraiment blessé personne_."

" _ça me fait mal_!" she blurted without thinking. " _vous êtes-vous déjà demandé quand j'atteindrai ma limite? que tu me baises encore et encore jusqu'à ce qu'un jour je ne te pardonne pas?_ "

" _je suis désolé,_ " he pleaded. " _croyez que je ne prends aucun plaisir à vous mentir, alors ne le prenez pas personnellement_."

she laughed mirthlessly and mockingly, feeling both hurt and angry. "you five are a fucked up group. i'm going to be unbelievably angry after the holidays."

"best not to waste our time then."

she glared at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> translations:
> 
> qui court deux lievres a la fois, n'en prend aucun =   
> he who runs two hares at the same time, takes none
> 
> il était censé faire d'une pierre deux coups! =   
> it was supposed to kill two birds with one stone
> 
> eh bien, ça s'est retourné contre toi, n'est-ce pas =   
> well that backfired on you, didn't it
> 
> je comprends que tu es en colère j'ai menti, mais ça n'a vraiment blessé personne =  
> i understand that you are angry i lied, but it didn't really hurt anyone
> 
> ça me fait mal! vous êtes-vous déjà demandé quand j'atteindrai ma limite? que tu me baises encore et encore jusqu'à ce qu'un jour je ne te pardonne pas? =  
> have you ever wondered when i will reach my limit? that you fuck me over again and again until one day i don't forgive you?
> 
> je suis désolé, croyez que je ne prends aucun plaisir à vous mentir, alors ne le prenez pas personnellement =  
> i'm sorry, believe i take no pleasure in lying to you, so don't take it personally


	30. xxviii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a whole chapter of sicaria and tom  
> reminder; tom is an asshole. does attempted murder need a tw? also a little bit of mature content  
> anyway, enjoy

december 1944

"what are you doing?" sicaria was startled by the sudden voice from behind her, whirling around to see riddle standing near the top of the steps. riddle's eyes left hers only for a moment to look at the holographic chart in front of her on the floor where she was sitting. they were at the top of the astronomy tower, and she seemed to be watching the thunderstorm.

she collected herself quickly as he made his way up the final four steps and turned back to the sky. "are you ever going to stop sneaking up on me?"

"what are you doing?" he repeated, staring at the chart on the floor. it consisted of a large circle, and there was a bright silver light directly in the center, around it were several lines, words he didn't recognize, and red dots. another bolt of lightning struck, and a red dot appeared on the chart, and she drew another line with her wand. 

she clenched her teeth and didn't look at him as she wrote more words and symbols. when the thunder crashed, she made a small tick mark. "ceraunomancy."

"divination?" he said, standing over her as she sat on the floor, studying her face as she avoided his gaze. she sighed and stood, though she was still a few inches shorter than him. only from this level did she see the amusement present on his face. he looked between her, the hologram chart, and the dark, loud sky. "of the weather? explain it to me." there was a mocking tone in his voice.

"answer a question of mine first." he raised an eyebrow encouraging her to go on. "did you happen to stumble upon me or have you been following me around?"

he smirked at her and then turned to face the sky, alight with bursts of lightning and rolling thunder. from this height, they were able to see hills and empty grasslands past the village for miles and miles on end. the rain began to come down harder as the quiet _pitter-patter_ filled in the gaps of their conversation. "have the clouds not told you i was coming? the sky is not answering your inquisitions?"

she glowered at him. "you mock me."

"divination is imprecise and futile." he stated, as if he was telling her something she didn't already know. _you'd think i told him i saw zeus throw the lightning bolts down._

"i don't do it to see the future," she scathed, spinning the ring around her finger. "it's just a past time."

"explain it."

she seemed to debate it for a moment before sighing. "the basis of ceraunomancy is that i am the center of the universe-" 

"how conceited."

"you asked for an explanation. do you plan on interrupting me every sentence?"

he chuckled at her indignation, edging closer to the witch. "continue."

sicaria eyed him for a moment before obeying. "the graph records where the lightning strikes occur and then the number of seconds between the light and the sound-"

"that's based on distance."

"i know that." she snapped "but again, i am the center of the universe, and this method of divination is based in time, not space. the seconds and chart locations get put into an arithmantic formula and i get a set of letters."

"you made the formula?"

she looked at him. "yes." his eyes glinted. 

one of the things that intrigued tom most about sicaria was her intellect. he'd seen it in her mind; a treasure trove of knowledge from around the world. things and places that he could and couldn't recognize. no matter what she was doing, he could always see the wheels turning in her eyes, always thinking or analyzing something. so, he made it a point to always get as much magical knowledge out of her as he could, even if it was something as trivial divination.

it had been so long since he learned from another person.

"then what?"

she shrugged as another lightning bolt struck, this time closer to the center of the chart. "i can make anagrams."

"is there anything more meaningful that you could use your intelligence for? something of consequence?" he plucked her wand from her fingers and tossed it to the ground. she let him. 

"what are you suggesting? that i spend time doing dark rituals like you? meddling with magic i'm not wise enough to understand?" his grasp on the wrist that as previously holding her wand tightened. he pulled at it, and she stumbled into him; their chests touched. she made a glance at her watch; she had to be at dumbledore's office in less than an hour.

he ignored the underlying insult. "dark magic is magic, all the same. there is no light and dark, only knowledge, and those ambitious enough to take it."

she agreed with him, but it was impossible to talk to him if they weren't debating. instead, she looked him in the eye and argued a point that she didn't believe in. "perhaps, but you've seen the physical backlash to using dark magic. the seizures, the tremors, the scars; it deteriorates the body."

"knowledge isn't usage. knowledge is ability." his hand snaked up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps as it settled at the base of the back of her neck. she watched his face, but his eyes were on her throat where his thumb rested.

"then what's the point of collecting something you don't intend to use when there are much more benign means at hand?"

quickly and suddenly, he slid his hand up into her hair and pulled from the root, making her gasp as he held the base of her head in the palm of his hand. the second she summoned her wand to her hand, he batted it away. she let him. 

he was presenting her with an opportunity, whether or not he knew he was, so she didn't fight. 

he pulled, tilting her head back as he looked down into her eyes. he breathed and she let her eyes flash with pseudo terror as she tried to clear her mind. his touch was electrifying, but right now, she needed to focus on analyzing him. "i could split open your skull and gouge out your eyes with a severing charm, and it would still be considered light magic. i could _crucio_ you until your mind turns to mush and that's dark magic, but legilimency can be a hell of a lot more torturous and much more effective, yet it's still light magic."

his eyes never left hers as he threatened her, and suddenly everything changed.

she finally understood.

_how hadn't i seen it before?_

it all started to click; the sneaking up on her, doing things to make her flinch, the bar, the bookstore, the library (both times). he had been performing psychological experiments on her, and she hadn't even realized. 

he'd been inside her mind, and she never even noticed.

threatening her with physical force, to see how she'd react. 

torturing people in front of her, to see how she'd react. 

all the half-assed manipulations that she _thought_ she saw through, _just to see how she'd react._

she was an _idiot,_ and she had never felt so moronic. she'd never been so oblivious in her life, and it was all because she underestimated him. with riddle, she always took the easy explanation; everything at face value. when he tortured his friends in front of her, he said it was because he wanted to know about her parents. he lied straight to her face, and she believed him every single time.

all this time, she thought that she was seeing through him, when in reality, she'd never even scratched the surface. she thought she had the upper hand, when actually, he was baiting her, and she took it. every. single. time.

the realization must have show in her expression, because he watched her curiously. he waited patiently for her to speak.

"you are a hell of a lot smarter than i originally gave you credit for, tom riddle."

he stiffened so imperceptibly that she almost missed it. _were those subtle reactions fake too? how much can one person manufacture human nature?_ "how so?"

"from the moment i saw you, you confused me, but i think i've finally figured it out. behaviorism and psychological manipulation." she breathed, not removing her eyes from his. her blood ran cold.

he only lifted an eyebrow. 

she continued, saying the thoughts as they came to mind. every interaction they had ever had shone in an entirely different light now. "that's how you've been trying to understand me. you _create_ stimuli and psychological pressure to see how i react to them. you lied when you said you were figuring out my tells. you aren't, you just been trying to understand how my mind works." _that among other things._

his face broke into a passive, lazy smile; one that was meant to distract from his anger. he smiled like he was proud of her. she understood him too well, but also not at all. 

"you've caught me red handed." he laughed. a psychotic, diabolical laugh. one so hard that he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. it was cinematic, how his laugh clashed with the lightning and thunder that none of them seemed to hear. the smile was so prevalent in his voice that it made her stomach churn. "i knew you'd eventually catch on, but it's has been so entertaining, watching you think you've been winning against me. like a little chess match, except you open your eyes and realize that i've already taken all your pieces."

she took no time to analyze his confession, instead vocalizing her realizations as she made them. her mind was racing, and she made no move to hide it. "the whole fake torture thing, that's why you stared at me the whole time. you were analyzing."

"it wasn't easy, and you posed quite the challenge. you're very good at shielding yourself. it'll be harder now that you know; when you first came here, you didn't fall for the things everyone else usually did, so i had to adjust. i'll adjust again." _and i will find a way to break those new barriers down too._

she swallowed and his smirk became a sanguinary smile. the thunder crashed so loudly that it felt like the grounds shook, but that all felt so far away. "how much of it was real?"

"i guess you'll never know."

"when did it start?"

his hand slid forward caressing her cheek as he talked down to her. she was thinking too hard to even register it. her mind was alight with too many emotions to keep track of; shock, astonishment, hatred, guilt, idolization, horror, _fear._ "when you inevitably go off to try to come to terms with your newest development, i'm sure you'll be able to pinpoint a start date."

her voice lowered, and she looked away from him. she stared at the storm raging, willing herself to calm down. _do not have a panic attack._ "it was so perfect. it was ingenious. you framed everything like it was something completely different, and i actually believed you."

he grasped both sides of her face roughly and turned her to look at him. his whisper felt like ice. "are you afraid of me yet, darling?"

"horrified." he had been messing with her mind, and she hadn't even noticed. she was telling the truth; she was horrified.

he frowned. "how unfortunate. i won't be able to observe you naturally anymore."

her mind was going too fast. she was going to have a panic attack. "you- you're..."

"i'm what? evil? sadistic? cruel?" he pulled her again as she jerked into his body. he was being far more physically aggressive, and she needed an out. she could feel his breath ghosting across the skin of her face, but all she could see was his eyes.

"deranged. you're fucking crazy."

he kissed her, hard and mercilessly. it was a punishment for being so easily fooled, but also a punishment for figuring out the ruse. he kissed her, like he was proud of her for finally understanding. so many words flowing into a single touch.

his kiss was a penalty and a reward. his kiss was a participation trophy. his kiss was scolding and degrading, but also worshiping and adoration.

he kissed her with _emotion_ , and for a second, she let him.

it was the shock she needed to put her demeanor back in place. she forced herself to become sicaria again.

she swiftly pulled back, feeling herself physically restart, and he seemed to understand. "never again. _ever_."

"that's not why i kissed you." he said slowly, making sure she heard every syllable. "i will not cross that line, you have my word."

she didn't know whether or not to believe him. "then give me a reason."

she knew why, but she wanted him to say it. he was inhuman enough to mastermind schemes like this, but no matter how much he repressed it, he was still _human,_ and humans were a species of instincts. he kissed her because he _wanted_ to kiss her; nothing romantic about it. she wanted him to admit it. 

he changed the subject instead. "the behavioral analysis; i've noticed you do it too, but yours is more instinctual i believe. you miss details. when you think no ones watching, i can always see you thinking and storing away information. even when you're drunk, you say and do things and watch how they react. the reason i maintained the upper hand was because you underestimate my ability, and you don't understand this environment."

the unspoken implication hung in the air. _it could all be an illusion. you don't know what's real and what isn't._

they couldn't know. rosier, lestrange, malfoy, and nott. they wouldn't be able to handle it, or consciously think about it at all times. perhaps they knew riddle was like this, perhaps they knew he had a god complex, but they couldn't be in on the ruse. 

they had to be. they had to know.

they've known him for seven years; they had to see the signs. 

both possibilities were unsatisfactory, but entirely plausible. 

he was right, she didn't know what was real and what wasn't.

"i do," she said, looking straight into his eyes. they were no longer touching, but they were much too close. he'd gained the upper hand, and she needed to find a way to bring him back down. "your biggest problem is that your signals are all physical. i could tell you i know a secret of yours, and then watch how your eyes tense slightly, and then you relax so you're too blank. your eyes always give you away."

"too unexpressive, you say?"

she nodded, mind racing as she formed a brief strategy. "so blank that anyone who's paying attention could see you're concealing something. usually, i can tell at least a range of reactions to certain things, but you're unpredictable, and now i see why. there have been times where i got so close to outright telling you that i know something just to see how hard you'd try to conceal your anger."

every bone in her body was screaming that this was a bad idea, but she didn't care right now. she didn't care that he could easily kill her right now and frame it as an accident. if he tried to throw her off the tower, she didn't know if she would even fight.

"do it now. use my own strategy against me." he took the bait, just as she knew he would. 

she _did_ know some of what was real and what was fake.

"would you be able to stop yourself from reacting?" she stared up at him, watching his face closely so she could see the exact moment of realization. she spoke slowly and clearly. "what would you do if i accused you of murder?"

that's not what he was expecting.

he lunged for her instantly, grabbing her by the throat, his wand aimed right at the pulse point. he backed her up to the edge of the railing, and her back leaned over the edge. the rain soaked the two of them as he threateningly dangled her over the railing of the astronomy tower. it was a far fall. her eyes lit up as his flashed red. "what do you know?"

"only what you've just told me with your reaction." 

she lied. 

"you lie," he squeezed tighter, starting to asphyxiate her. if he didn't stop soon, he'd end up strangling her before he could fake her suicide. she made no move for her wand. "how do you know i'm not faking this reaction?"

"you're not." her voice was strained from the effort it took to speak while he was slowly suffocating her.

"how do you know?

"you're not." she repeated. his hold on her throat loosened enough that her vision stopped blurring, and she could speak more coherently. his fingers dug into her esophagus, leaving bruises in the spots where he had left hickeys only days earlier.

" _what do you know_?" he tipped her farther over the edge, the unspoken threat looming in the air over them. "tell me why i should believe you aren't lying."

she thought for a moment, trying to come up with the vaguest possible proof. "little hangleton is quite a beautiful village." the name of the city was specific enough that he'd know, but didn't give anything further than that away. she could not tell him how she knew he murdered his father and grandparents. he'd could never find out. he stared at her for a moment, making no move to pull her away from the edge, nor fully pushing her over to her death. "you think you have to kill me now, get rid of all the loose ends. but you won't."

"and why is that?"

"they'll know it was you." all four of them. they'd know immediately that it was riddle who killed her. she wondered if they'd mourn her, or if they'd forgive riddle for murdering her. she wondered if their hypothetical reactions would have an affect on him.

"that changes nothing." he lied. _they'll get over it. they always do. wouldn't they?_

"you haven't done it yet, and you won't. hesitation has damned you and your rationality supersedes this manufactured anger." there were black spots in her vision. the railing of the tower was cutting into her spine, making her entire lower body feel slightly numb. the rain was beginning to make her shiver as the wind began to whistle around them. it felt like static in her ears.

"you made no move for your wand."

"i didn't." her knuckles were white from gripping onto the freezing railing so hard. she'd catch pneumonia soon.

"why? how did you know?"

"i'm going to pass out soon." she said, as her head began to feel dizzy and light. was it the lack of blood or oxygen that was interfering with her sense of awareness.

a thought popped into her head. what would macusa do if she died on a mission? if he faked her death like a suicide, they'd probably do no investigation. they knew about the coke, they'd probably just assume she finally went off the deep end, but if she was undeniably murdered, what would happen? would she get a plaque on the wall for fallen agents? would they prosecute her killer? would they expose her spy status post mortem? or would they just cut off all connection and pretend that she never had anything to do with them at all?

she realized it was likely the latter. they'd probably burn down her apartment in a fire too.

he stared at her for a moment, and then smiled at her as he released her throat. he pulled her away from the ledge and she doubled over, coughing between laughs as she sneered at him. "despite how angry you so _obviously_ are, you seem to think you've won. care to share why?"

"i learned more in this interaction about you than you have about me." he said as he conjured her a glass of water for her and dried the rain off of both of them. homicidal, but gentlemanly. "for one, you're suicidal."

"i'm not, and trust that i'll be long gone before you get anywhere near understanding me." he pulled her up to her feet, seeming to resign to the fact that he was not going to murder her today. she didn't flinch when he put his wand to her throat to heal the bruising he'd left in the shape of his fingers. he wanted a blank canvas. 

once he was satisfied with making sure she didn't look like she survived an assassination attempt, he tucked his wand away in his back pocket and stared at her for a moment, once again stepping into her space. she stared back at him, regaining an outward sense of calm. "i know much more than you think i do."

every word he said to her felt like a thinly veiled threat. 

"whatever you think you know is skewed and inaccurate."

"i already understand you. you're just like me."

he pulled her into him, and kissed her again. this one was lighter, but not lacking his usual hostility. this kiss had no meaning behind it. it wasn't an apology, or a threat, or even a display of superiority. it was just passion, no reasoning behind it.

_what to do, what to do?_

she kissed him back. she'd indulge, but the moment christmas break ended, this (whatever _this_ was) was over. there wasn't much even to begin with aside from their mutual attraction. they never talked about it and neither of them made it seem like anything romantic, but she'd enjoy it while it lasted. it was fleeting, intimate, and passionate, that's all.

they never even pretended to be friends.

as he moved his mouth down her jaw to her throat, she let her thoughts stray, getting lost in both the feeling of him and the moment of just the two of them. everything about riddle was duality. it reminded her of _jekyll and hyde_ , how he could so quickly go from a narcissistic teenager to a murderer and master manipulator. it was an interesting dichotomy, and she would be curious enough to explore it if he hadn't just admitted to playing mind games with her for months. she decided at this very moment that after christmas was over, and they returned to school, she'd shut all five of them out entirely. 

no more tom, adonis, adrien, thomas, or abraxas.

he was unbuttoning her shirt. he stared at her for a moment, questioning, and continued down when she nodded that it was okay for him to continue.

they didn't get any more chances. she found herself wondering why she'd even given them the first one, but deep down she knew. it was pure desperation for their companionship that led her to forgiving them time and time again after they screwed her over. she was foolish, and hadn't seen how determined he was to figuring her out, but now that she knew, she would ensure that he would never learn another detail about her.

she was freezing. her shirt was gone. she made noises as he nipped and sucked at her collarbone. she was vaguely aware of him loosening his tie. 

he was digging too deep. if he kept going, he'd eventually find something bigger than just her psychological sketch. if he found out about macusa, she'd have to obliviate him, and she didn't know if she'd be able to beat him in a duel to be able to do so. 

her back was against the cold wall and her hands tangled through his hair as the front of his body pressed into hers.

she'd have to go to dumbledore for help. at the thought of dumbledore, she glanced up at her watch, seeing that she had less than twenty-five minutes to be at his office, or she'd be late for the adjudication.

it was never like this. usually when riddle touched her, it was easy to get lost in the feeling (to the point where it was difficult _not_ to get lost in it), but there was a tiny shred of doubt creeping through her, that none of this was real. she felt like less of a whore if she could pretend it wasn't happening, but the feeling of him touching her was threatening to shatter her demeanor.

she needed to find a way to leave. she spoke. "this is highly inappropriate, you know? this is a school-"

"much, _much_ worse things have happened in this school," he said shortly, and she felt the vibrations of his voice against her chest. he slid the two of them down the wall and laid her back on the ground, hovering over her. "would you like a list?"

"i'm angry with you." _you need to leave. you have to be in dumbledore's office in twenty-two minutes._ his hand shifted up farther than they'd ever been before, gliding along her exposed ribcage. she grabbed his wrist before he could touch her _there,_ and he immediately froze and looked up. "i swear to _god,_ riddle, if this is one of your psychological games-"

"it isn't." he said quickly, his voice tense. he stared into her eyes, letting down his occlumency barrier for only a split second so she could see the truth in his mind. "i'll stop if you want me to, but i _swear_ to you, that's not what this is."

he let her into his mind, willingly. she couldn't help but feel that meant something. was he really that desperate for her?

she stared at him hesitantly for a moment, and then released his wrist, nodding slowly. it was the truth. he relaxed and undid the buttons quickly on his own shirt. when he did, she saw what looked like a snake tattoo on his forearm; the same one she'd seen on abraxas. she wondered if the five of them had matching tattoos. he seemed to follow her line of sight, and lifted an eyebrow. "ask." he commanded.

"all five of you have it?" she asked, staring, but not reaching out to touch it. "it's dark magic, isn't it?"

he leaned back over her, and she cried out when he bit her neck. "it is," he said, after sucking harshly on the bite. "but please hold your lecture on dark magic for later, yeah?"

she fought the urge to tell him she didn't actually care about whether it was dark or not. "this is a public place." she sighed, running her hands along his pectorals and abdominals as he glided his hand over her chest. he continued to eye her as he touched her, looking for any sign of discomfort. 

"you didn't seem to mind until now," he said, smirking when she scowled at him. "it's almost curfew, and i warded the stairs when i came up."

so he _was_ looking for her. but for what? for this?

 _fifteen minutes._ she only now gave thought to how she was going to sneak out of this. when she didn't go back to the common room with him, he'd be curious as to where she _was_ going at this time of night.

"i shouldn't be doing this." she said, tangling her fingers in his hair, arching her back satisfaction as he made another mark lower on her chest, closer to her breast. "i've never been more angry in my life."

"has that stopped you before? give me a better reason." she hissed and dug her nails into his back as he bit at the flesh just below her collarbone until it bled. he shivered at the sensation. 

you learn something new everyday.

"you almost just murdered me."

"i didn't though, did i?" he said exasperatedly, pushing himself away from her body. he pulled himself up, kneeling between her legs as he seemed to realize that she was going to do anything to talk herself out of it. he wasn't going to push her, nor beg. he held out his hand and pulled her up, so they were sitting at eye level, half clothed. "you're a lot more talkative this time."

she raised an eyebrow as he finally acknowledged that they'd done anything like this before. 

it took her too long than she would like to admit to recover. "i'm going on a date with another man in a few days. perhaps venus was right when-"

"don't call yourself that, and don't talk about other men right now." he kissed her again, and she reciprocated for a second before he pulled back, staring at her. he glared as she opened her mouth to speak again. 

"why did you tell adonis to ask me?" she said, ignoring his request, running her hands through riddle's hair as he reattached himself to her throat. he made no move to bring his hand anywhere more explicit.

"hm?" he said against her neck, and she knew he'd heard her, but he neither wanted to give her an answer, nor lie.

"seems silly, doesn't it? worrying over a dance when you've just finished debating whether or not you had to kill me?" her next question to break from him was how he had become so desensitized to the idea of taking someone else life, and then being able to quickly adjust back to his usual persona. it only occurred to her now that the three murders she knew of may not have been his only ones. 

_ten minutes. you need to be gone in ten minutes, and you're about to have sex with a potential serial killer._

"how old are you?"

he laughed into her. "the same age as you."

she moaned softly as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear that set her body on fire. he felt almost astonished thinking about what he'd do to get her to make sounds like that for him. she'd soon realize that riddle was a giver, not a taker. when her wits returned, she huffed in annoyance. "are you going to answer _any_ of my questions?"

riddle seemed to be growing irritated as well, as he groaned exasperatedly and pulled his head back to face her. she was saddened by the loss of contact, but no matter how much she craved his touch, it wouldn't erase her anger at him. his scowl quickly became a challenging smirk. "i'll answer the one you're avoiding." he whispered slowly, pulling lightly on her hair to tilt her head back and tracing a finger along her throat. "i know you're thinking it. go on, _ask me_." 

she didn't know which he was referring to. _why didn't you ask me to the ball yourself? or how are you so ready to kill?_

one was infinitely more consequential than the other, but they felt equal in both of their minds.

one of the questions was on the tip of her tongue. she unraveled her arms from around him, and shoved him back lightly. "no."  
  
"no?" he raised an eyebrow, and detangled his fingers from her hair. he leaned over and handed her shirt back to her as he searched for his own.

she shook her head, standing up from the floor. "i don't want to know." 

she summoned her wand to her and waved a spell to glamour all the marks he'd left on her. she also cleaned herself up so she didn't look like she'd just been on the verge of hooking up with someone. she banished her unfinished ceraunomancy chart, mumbling angry about interruptions. 

she glanced over at him. he righted himself quickly, and was standing only a few feet away, watching her. she _accio'd_ her bag, and pulled out a potion which she quickly downed. 

"what's that?" sicaria found it funny how he often phrased his demands as questions. 

"a calming draught." she said, tossing the empty vial back into her bag as the two of them made their way to the stairs. she watched him lift several wards off of both the top and base of the staircase. beams of moonlight and faint lightning seeped through the windows and illuminated the halls. it was haunting. 

"for?"

"i have a meeting with dumbledore in..." she glanced at her watch. "six minutes." _and if i start thinking about your psych games during it, i'll have a panic attack._

he stared at her in disbelief as they descended the tower. "in the middle of the night?"

she shrugged, trying to come up with a quick lie. "he's not on campus often, so i take what i can get."

he didn't know whether or not to believe her.

they reached the bottom of the stairs just as a ghost ( _the hufflepuff one,_ sicaria thought) turned the corner out of the hallway they entered. it was eerily silent, the only sounds being their footsteps and the mild rain that had lessened in vigor over the course of the night.

he looked after her, both frustrated and amused. "i meant what i said."

"which part?"

"that if you tell anyone, i will kill you." both his tone and his gaze were filled with an intensity that she didn't recognize on him.

"you didn't say that." she cocked her head to the side in faux fear. if he hadn't been so _frustrated,_ he'd laugh. "and i'm sure you've realized that i don't fear death."

"maybe not, but you do not want to die yet. you don't fear death, yet you aren't suicidal. i think the _why_ will be the next answer i rip from you, no matter how hard you try to keep it from me."

"how would you do it?"

"what?"

she rolled her eyes as they descended another staircase. they would separate soon, him in the direction of the slytherin dorms and her in the direction of dumbledore's office. "killing curse? stab wound? asphyxiation? how would you do it?"

he observed her vacantly and wondered for a moment if she was sane. maybe she lied about not being suicidal.

he decided to entertain her. "a slow acting poison maybe. torture you as it goes down-"

"brutal." she rubbed a hand over her eyelid.

"-or drown you in your own blood, but then it would be over too soon-"

"how morbid. god-forbid i die quickly." they reached the hallway where they had to split apart. she'd turn left, and he'd turn right. they stopped walking for a moment.

"-or maybe just lock you up somewhere and let you starve to death. we'd get a couple of weeks out of that."

"sadist." he didn't deny it.

his tone became serious so quickly that an involuntary chill went down her spine. "in reality, i think i'd let you choose. tell me, how would you want me to kill you?"

she looked at him in the eye for a moment before turning around in the direction of dumbledore's office. "if i tell anyone, then we'll see, won't we?"

"goodnight, edwards." he sang, taunting her, as if he didn't just threaten to murder her. she wasn't going to tell anyone. they both knew it.

"go to hell, riddle." he stared at her as she disillusioned and silenced herself.

he saw and heard nothing as she took off in a sprint.

he was left with his thoughts, and reflected on the biggest thing that he learned about her from this night. 

the way she had only brought up that she knew about the murders as a means to try to make him react was telling. he wondered if she'd sat on that information for a long time, and if she did, he'd never noticed a point where she began treating him differently. she knew he killed someone, and the fact didn't change how she acted toward him. curious.

and even after she admitted that she knew, she still almost slept with them, as if she didn't even care. 

he nodded to himself, certain that his inference was correct. 

sicaria edwards had killed someone before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder that this story is told from third person limited, so the narrator a) changes, though it's almost always sicaria, b) is unreliable, and actions are told as how a certain character INTERPRETS them, unless i specifically state it as fact. 
> 
> i know it can be a bit confusing, but as a general rule, anything with the word "she thought" or "he thought" is an interpretation, and may very well be misunderstood


	31. xxix

december 1944  
tw: brief mentions of suicide

sicaria ended up being two minutes late to dumbledore's office. 

she stopped just outside the door, casting stronger glamours over herself, and once she stepped inside, she transfigured her school robes into work-appropriate attire with a particularly high neckline. 

dumbledore made no mention of her tardiness. he often seemed to ignore her faults, instead choosing to pretend that she was some sort of saint. he treated her similar to how he treated people while he was a professor; choosing to act as though she was his student and not his co-worker, though sicaria felt like neither.

sicaria thought that perhaps it was some sort of pity, like he felt bad for her situation, and tried to make it easier on her by not chastising her at every turn. she didn't know whether or not to appreciate it; she didn't need nor want his pity, but for the most part he stayed out of her way, and for that, she was grateful. 

they had an understanding, a mutual sort of trust. eventually she began telling dumbledore almost anything of interest that came from her interrogations. they came up with theories, and occasionally, he helped her make logical connections that she hadn't seen before. he was getting more out of it than she was, but she didn't care. she didn't particularly give a shit about what macusa did and didn't want him to know, and it wasn't any information that was damning to what their cause was _supposed_ to be: beating grindelwald. 

it seemed that governments had lost sight of the original vision, and now wanted the glory and recognition that would come with such a feat. treaties and legislation against each other only lead to more chaos ensuing, and prolonging the war leading to more and more death. instead of working together under the International Confederation, nations were actively undermining each other trying to be the first to the finish line. 

once the two of them exited the floo, dumbledore followed sicaria down the crowded halls of the department of magical law enforcement. instead of turning into the atrium where she usually gave her check-ins, they continued down a long, narrow corridor, leading to a small conference room. alessandria was sitting in a chair by the door. 

"ms. edwards, mr. dumbledore," the woman nodded serenely at the two of them, waving her wand in the motion of a quill as words began to appear on the parchment. 

"mrs. goldenberg," sicaria smiled at the secretary. "you won't be joining us?"

alessandria shook her head. "no, the classification level for this one is even past me." she turned her head. "vota has insisted that mr. dumbledore not be in attendance either."

dumbledore gasped in mock surprise, but his smile gave away that he somehow knew this would happen. sicaria eyed him suspiciously. "that is most unfortunate, but no matter. i shall be waiting just beyond this door when you are finished, ms. edwards."

she stared at him with narrowed eyes for only a moment longer before choosing not to respond. she grasped the door handle and stepped into the room. eileen vota and barry campbell sat at a table, barry seemingly oblivious to vota's contemptuous grimace. 

they both looked up when she entered. 

"ms. edwards." vota said, gesturing at a chair on the opposite side of the table from her. barry gave her a smile and a wave as he exited the room and his happiness to see dumbledore could be heard through the closing door. "have a seat, dear."

something was... off. 

the vota she remembered from the previous meetings had been stoic to the point of being almost inhuman, and though this vota was still impassive, she was slightly more expressive in tone. she even called sicaria _dear._

the woman _was_ on the older side, sicaria assuming she was near merrythought's age, but everything about her aura felt omnipresent. she was still just as domineering, but without their usual audience, sicaria felt much less intimidated.

"ms. vota," sicaria said politely and professionally. she was feeling wary, and wanted nothing more than to understand the purpose of this meeting.

"well ms. edwards, let's forgo the formalities and get straight to the point. i'd rather we do this bluntly without the cushion of the bureaucratic process, unless you object."

"i don't."

"yes, i assumed you wouldn't." vota's lip quirked slightly, though there was an untraceable bit of anticipation behind it. "prompt: indianapolis."

"response: philadelphia."

"perfect. let's begin." she looked away from sicaria's eyes for a moment and rifled through several documents in a paper file. sicaria took that moment of silence to analyze the room they were sitting in. the light was unnaturally bright, and it loudly beamed down upon the two women making the whole room feel slightly disorienting. she wondered if this meeting room had once been an interrogation room, because she recalled how there were certain nonmagical elements they added to rooms and holding cells as a sort of subconscious discomfort. they made the witness more _pliant._ "your request to travel from your assigned placement is approved."

sicaria's eyes snapped to vota, who was still looking over the document. she had expected to have to argue as to why she deserved authorization, but to know it had already been given to her was odd. 

her suspicion heightened. 

she was silent until vota finally looked up to meet her eyes. "ms. vota, why are we not meeting with the full panel?"

vota disregarded her. 

"how did you obtain this invitation?" sicaria recognized that the document on the top of her pile was the report/request about the social gathering. she'd listed the basics of her suspicions about the party, but nothing concrete enough to launch an investigation, especially since the means of her information were illegally obtained. 

the crimes of sicaria edwards, she liked to call them. they made her kill for them; she always avoided the killing curse when possible, instead opting for less humane but more viable means of euthanasia. a subcutaneous severing charm to the back of the neck was enough to cut off the brain stem, or sometimes a fast acting suicide potion. they made her take information. she was a skilled interrogator, knowing exactly how to press the buttons of a witness to get information, the the things they wanted from her often required magical means. testimony and evidence given under the effects of veritaserum are not admissible in court (if they wanted to get an arrest) but the illegal info was a good start for aurors to know where to look when starting an investigation, and could easily be based off as an anonymous tup. they made her lie for them; she couldn't count the number of times she'd lied in depositions while under oath, or at least not given the entire truth. most recently, they made her breach international treaties, sending her to noncooperative nations to do deep cover reconnaissance. sicaria even wondered if the british head of department of magical law enforcement knew about macusa's agent(s) ( _are there more of them in england?_ sicaria thought) in britain. 

they knew that she'd do anything not to be caught, and she never was. close calls, run-ins with foreign aurors, and whatnot, but they all seemed to back away once they realized how _ridiculous_ it seemed to accuse a teenager of spycraft. their hesitation made it easy to disarm and obliviate them.

no one suspects a child. macusa used that to their advantage. 

her words were measured. "i'm acquaintances with the son of canopus and saiph malfoy."

vota eyed her for a long, inquisitive moment. she was goading her to explain further, but when sicaria did not, vota continued. "what is the nature of this _acquaintanceship?_ "

all of the phony politeness from sicaria's demeanor completely dropped, and it was quickly replaced with cold contempt. "what are you implying?"

vota flipped through several of the papers in her file before finding what she seemed to be looking for. she slid the paper across the table to sicaria. she looked down; it was the transcript from a meeting from a few months ago, july 1944.

_AGENT: how dare you? how dare you ask that of me? do you people have no boundaries? i just turned eighteen christ's sake. [INDISTINCT MURMURS]_

_COUNSELWOMAN 5: the committee is only reminding you that there are other means of extraction that are available and approved if you choose to use them._

_COUNSELWOMAN 12: let the record show that i have continuously been in opposition to such tactics, and remind this panel that the AGENT is indeed a child_

_AGENT: i'm not a fucking agent, and all of you can go straight to hell. [AGENT stands from her chair and points at the CHAIRMAN] i'll die before i whore myself out for this bullshit._

_CHAIRMAN: we must ask that the AGENT keep her composure. threats of suicide are probably cause for psychiatric evaluation._

_AGENT: you should all get checked out as well._

she looked back up at vota and raised an eyebrow. if vota was going to try to convince her of this again, sicaria prayed for the patience it would take not to raise her wand to the woman, and immediately earn herself a life sentence. 

"your records show that you vehemently oppose using salacious manners of information extraction."

"that has not and will not change." she fought back the urge to tell the woman that she was not a prostitute, but she was certain it came across in her tone. the organization had plenty of femme fatale's at their disposal, and if they were going to recruit more, they should start with volunteers who were not recently minors. sicaria had great respect for the women who were able to do a job as strenuous as that, but they were adults. she was a child. "ms. vota, why are we not meeting with the full panel?"

her question was ignored once again.

"then i ask again, what is the nature of your acquaintanceship?"

"you've stationed me at a school, ms. vota. he considers me a _friend._ " abraxas and sicaria were friends, no matter how much he'd deny it if given the chance.

"has be been interrogated?" _tsk, tsk. asking questions she knows the answer to._

"yes, i've _interrogated_ him, and i know you've read the transcript of it." she gritted her teeth, barely managing to conceal her anger. sicaria never had, and never would stop reminding them of the illegality of their actions, in hopes that if they had a conscience, it would constantly be nagging at them. "why aren't we meeting with the full panel?"

vota finally seemed to snap and answered sicaria's question, seeming to realize that they'd get nowhere if she didn't get the answers she wanted. "i am chairwoman of the panel, and i decide what happens, ms. edwards."

sicaria much preferred one-on-one meetings now. they were so easy to break when isolated. in numbers, they could take turns, but with just one of them, she could wear away at them using the same tactics she used in regular criminal interrogation. she tired not to let her glee show on her face. 

vota was so obviously stressed, so picking away at her patience was low hanging fruit. it wasn't noticeable if you weren't looking for it, but the way her she frequently blinked her heavily lidded eyes was a telltale sign of sleep deprivation. her hands moved almost too quickly, meaning she was either living off several doses of energy potion, or had resulted to no-maj methods of too much caffeine. 

"that's not an answer, ms. vota. you may as well have just ignored me once again."

vota exhaled from her nose slightly, and though the irritation at sicaria's insolence was present on her face, the hint of enjoyment was not lost in her eyes. "i have decided that members of the panel are unfit-"

"you're lying." sicaria hissed, leaning only a few centimeters farther over the table. 

"yes, i am lying in hopes that you'll eventually give up so we can continue." vota continued without missing a beat. "i have authority from the department of magical law enforcement head to determine and handle your case how i see fit."

sicaria blanched, her hands slipping off the table. she was suddenly very aware of the cold metal chair, and the faint hum of ambient magic in the air. her mind was dancing circles around itself as she read between the lines of the carefully crafted statements. she had two years of practice picking apart bureaucratic horseshit like this.

"you think there's a spy. a traitor."

"i wanted to speak with you privately. i believed that having the full panel will overwhelm you."

"you think there's a spy," sicaria repeated. "and you think knowing it will make me unhinged?"

vota set down her papers forcefully and sicaria's eyes glinted at the show of emotion. "classified members of macusa are targets for interference. there are no known spies within this panel, but keeping information as quiet as possible is a good way to ensure that if there was one, it's easier to conceal certain prospects."

sicaria privately thanked vota for not pretending to care about her life nor mental health.

vota did care, but not in the way she should. she was getting older, and she needed to start recruiting, or priming a protégé. sicaria already had plenty of skill, all she needed was a few years to grow out of this little rebellious tiff, and surely vota would be able to reign her in permanently, right?

"but then there's another reason, isn't there?" sicaria pressed on. "something you want to tell me, but you think i'll act out if you say it in front of the panel."

vota's eyes flickered to the door infinitesimally, but so obviously, as though she _wanted_ sicaria to see. her tone was congratulatory as she used a pen to scribble something on a small piece of paper. "you are a very intelligent young woman, ms. edwards. your prospects in this department could be great should you choose to continue after your contract."

sicaria snorted. "don't try to recruit me. i plan to have you all investigated by the Wizarding International Committee of Ethics when the war is over."

"WICE is thorough, but they cannot subpoena files classified above a certain level." vota's eyes were telling sicaria to continue; she knew that sicaria knew this, but wanted to know her contingency plan. 

sicaria shrugged and leaned back into her chair. "witness protection in exchange for my memories. two years of memories, so far."

"and if you win, you'll be in the newspapers." vota said as though she'd won their little argument. she had. "all across the world, in fact. can't you picture the headlines, dear?"

sicaria stiffened slightly at the threat. "my psych report in that stack of documents then, yeah?"

some of her psych reports detailed how much she did not want to be known in connection to macusa. not only was there now a target painted on her back, but also the notoriety and connotation behind being publicly labeled a _spy._

she could allow herself not to feel shame or guilt when only macusa agents knew of her sins. for they'd all done much worse, and if they hadn't, they'd commanded someone to do much worse. it was easy to dispel her own guilt by thinking of them as hypocrites, but if her identity leaked to the general public, there was no telling _how_ her story would be received. would they ally against or in support of her? 

if macusa won the war, patriotism would be high, and she'd be seen as a traitor if she tried to pull something against them. if grindelwald won the war, she'd have to kill herself before they came to kill her. 

vota changed the subject, swallowing whatever irritation and amusement she'd had before. she looked at a list of what sicaria assumed were talking points. "how is working with albus dumbledore?"

"he isn't a spy."

"that is not what i asked."

"tolerable." _sometimes._ the more she talked to dumbledore, the more confused he left her with all his vague riddles and paradoxes. 

vota flipped a page, her purple nails drumming against the wooden table as she set her hand back down. "how much do you tell dumbledore about your... endeavors?"

"i tell him enough," sicaria let out a frustrated sigh and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if the light would blind her if she looked directly at it for long enough. "can we get to the point, ms. vota? you're beating around the bush. or working up the nerve. am i really so terrifying?"

 _stop being an insolent bitch._ the small subconscious voice in her head reminded her of an amalgamation of things that riddle, malfoy, and a host of other assholes had said to her. she forced their names our of her head immediately. 

"do you know who will be in attendance at this event?"

"not specifically."

vota stared at sicaria directly for a moment. "i must remind you that macusa policy has the capture or assassination of gellert grindelwald ranked as priority number one. therefore, all agents have been placed in _advisory condition 1_ and have the greenlight to kill on contact, along with vinda rosier, and the other six main acolytes."

"no." sicaria said simply. she still had not looked away from the ceiling. 

"it wasn't a question. ms. edwards?"

"you cannot believe that i'd be able to best grindelwald in a duel." _or any other dark wizard, for that matter._

sicaria was an acomplished duelist, and could beat many people, but she wouldn't be so cocky as to think that she had a chance in hell of beating a dark wizard so accomplished.

"this is not a debate, ms. edwards. this is macusa policy. if you are given the chance, take it."

some sentences it was eileen vota speaking to sicaria. other times it was Government Official.

"and if i'm seen casting the killing curse at a known warlord in a room full of his supporters, you think they won't retaliate against me?" sicaria looked down at vota abruptly, feeling as the anger heightened. "they'll torture and kill me. please believe that i'll give up as many of your secrets as i can in the process."

vota let out an indignant gasp as though she was surprised that sicaria was vindictive. she didn't like to think of herself as vindictive, but she certainly could be. "you cannot say such things! your job-"

"this isn't my job." she raised her voice over vota's, and vota's eyes flashed. "i don't _have_ a job. this is extortion and i will not risk my life for it, _i don't give a damn_ how many years of azkaban you threaten me with. i will do reconnaissance, and i will listen and watch, but i will not engage in any duels with dark lords and i will _not_ go on any suicide missions."

"i've seen your records, edwards. don't pretend that you now have some sort of moral stance against death."

"and you'll see that every single one of those is in self defense."

"imagine the glory you'd get if you were the one to end the war! think of your life..." sicaria outright laughed at the abrupt switch. 

it occurred to sicaria that vota was good at her job because she was able to dehumanize people down to their potential value. she could shut off her empathy and turn it back on with the flip of a switch. right now, she wasn't eileen, she was Government Official, and she was switching between persuasion tactics to try to get sicaria to agree. 

she didn't seem to understand how humanity worked. it was fascinating. 

"god, you people are all the same. you think i want to be known for this?" sicaria cried. "you think i want to be known as a war criminal? i want to be famous for murdering someone and have my name plastered all over the newspapers?"

"i've done far worse, but i do it for a cause. you willingly do the things you do to keep yourself out of prison, child. you're no martyr."

"if that's meant to make me feel guilty, it doesn't. i'd do it all again if i had to, unless i finally snapped and killed myself."

"enough!" vota yelled, rising to her feet. sicaria didn't know it was possible to feel uncontrollable anger and pure, unbridled glee simultaneously. 

sicaria froze for a moment. she was being manipulated. this was exactly like what riddle had been doing to her, saying things or putting her in situations to see how she'd react. vota was doing the same thing. vota didn't expect sicaria to even attempt to kill grindelwald, she just wanted to see what sicaria would to; whether she'd lie about trying to or not.

she immediately removed all her outer hostility.

sicaria spoke before she could talk further. "i know you don't believe a word your saying, and this little manipulation act isn't fooling me, so please give me a real motive or let me leave."

"look, sicaria." vota leaned over the table at her, her expression was hardened but her eyes were soft, as if she had only just now remembered that she was eighteen and a child, not thirty and a trained auror. sicaria was a useful tool that they needed, no matter how inexperienced she was. just like that, she switched from Government Official back to eileen. "i don't want you to die nor do i want you to be captured and exposed. if you get a clear shot on him take it, and apparate as far away from there as you can."

"i will not." she said simply, reaffirming her earlier statement. "i'll modify my own memory if i must, but i'm telling you now that i will not attempt to kill him if it puts my life in danger. i will not attempt to create a situation to try to assassinate him."

sicaria prayed that grindelwald would not be there.

vota ignored her and sat back down, recollecting herself. they both ignored the faint knock on the door. "when the evening is over, you will take an international portkey to your home, and then apparate here for an immediate debriefing. if the panel think you're holding anything back, they'll request to use your memories in the pensieve."

it was a warning. vota was warning her. vota _wanted_ her to know that they'd use her memory, and was giving her a heads-up. 

something was off.

sicaria nodded nonetheless. she could do her own memories fine, but sorting and changing other peoples was difficult. vota peered at sicaria over her glasses, eyes sweeping across her face. vota spoke slowly. "do you understand what i'm asking you?"

she was giving sicaria an out. _take anything with grindelwald out of your mind, or at least make sure you can lie convincingly._

if she interpreted this conversation wrong, it wouldn't really matter. sicaria would do what she had to in order to stay alive and out of azkaban, no matter what the panel wanted.

"yes."

"good. authorization granted. go down to the department of transportation and arrange the portkeys." she turned over a few pages. "when does school resume?"

"january 5th."

"alright. the entire panel will be on call the whole evening. the portkey is to be set to leave at three a.m. which means it'll be ten p.m. here. burn the protean charm on your emblem if you need to leave earlier, and the transportation people will activate it. it'll take you to your apartment, drop your things and apparate straight into the meeting chamber."

"will the full body be there?"

vota made a face crossing between a smirk and a scowl. "president piqcuery and head of law enforcement may be in attendance. the information you've provided, especially about marseilles, has been more than substantial, and they'd like to know the source."

it was nice to know they got a few arrests out of the bank. not that they had bothered to tell her about it. 

sicaria's face drained of color, and vota noticed. "no, don't worry. no one of lower classification clearance knows of your identity. on all the forms, it just says _'deep cover agent'_. people walking around may know your face but not your name or anything about your assignments."

"good to know." sicaria said sarcastically.

vota checked several boxes on a form. the energy in the room was buzzing slightly, but both women were content and still. it was as though they hadn't been screaming at each other only moments earlier. "would you prefer to stay in new york until the new year?"

she'd miss the boys, but she thought that perhaps she could use a break from them. the extra time away would also be good for her to get used to having no more connection to them, and to form some sort of strategy. she hadn't forgotten about riddle forcing himself into her mind and life, and if she wanted to ensure that he no longer could, she had to keep her distance. from _all_ of them. just the thought of riddle started to make her lose focus, but she quickly shoved him back into his place in the back of her mind. "yes."

how she was going to survive without their friendship, she didn't know, but she'd figure it out. she'd only known them for a few short months, but a sliver of sadness still crept up every time she thought about the day that she'd inevitably part from them. 

in a year, she'd never see them again, and they'd forget her. 

she was disposable in so many peoples lives.

"alright, well then there will be two portkeys set. one will take you from your location to your new york apartment at three a.m. december 23rd. the other will send you from your apartment back to hogsmeade village where you'll walk back to hogwarts on january 3rd. the next two days can be spent getting reacquainted."

"okay."

"the panel has also decided that your mission objective has changed. we want all information on grindelwald you can get, no more specifics. you have free reign for any method of extraction you choose."

sicaria only stared at the woman, hoping that the _fuck you_ was implicit in her glare. 

eileen shuffled her files and stood. hesitantly, she extended her hand to sicaria, as if she thought the young girl would slap it away. instead she shook it once, and then dropped it immediately, like it had burned her. 

"you're doing a good job, sicaria." she was trying to be reassuring, but this was the last thing she wanted to hear. she dropped a folded piece of paper into sicaria's hand. "i'll be in london on the 21st. i'll be in this bar around noon. come see me, we'll have a drink, dear."

she wanted to be sick.

vota _liked_ sicaria. the way she acted was how a mentor would to their protégé. was that why she looked at the door earlier? like she was wondering if dumbledore had beat her to the prize?

vota exited the room first, and sicaria followed shortly after, pausing to take the documents vota had left for her, and sighing in annoyance. 

dumbledore and barry were smiling at her when she exited, and alessandria waved quickly as she hurried after vota, who was already halfway down the hallway. the secretary kept dropping things, and sicaria pulled out her wand and flicked it once to help alessandria gather her things. the secretary seemed to forget she had a wand for a reason. 

campbell spoke first. "it seems as though she rather likes you, ms. edwards. that was how she used to yell at auror hunterson."

hunterson was rather famous around macusa, but sicaria didn't particularly care. she was, though, thinking about why this meeting was so _classified,_ yet vota seemed to forget to cast a silencing charm on the room. sicaria was certain it was on purpose. dumbledore seemed to read her thoughts. "how unfortunate it was that ms. vota neglected a silencing spell. luckily, i was not listening."

"nor was i." barry said, nudging dumbledore slightly with his elbow. sicaria did not laugh. 

there was a reason. there had to be. 

dumbledore spoke through her silence. "i have a meeting, so i'll be leaving now, but once you're done in transportation, just floo back to my office. i won't be there but i trust you'll not go through my things."

"you're a very trusting man, mr. dumbledore." he smiled madly at her. 

"you're a good child, ms edwards. remember, _a child_. one will not be judged for their actions as a child." he waved a finger.

she didn't need his consolation. she entertained him nonetheless.

the three of them started down the hallway. "even if they're war crimes?"

he smiled warmly. she wished he'd stop doing that. "i think no less of you."

barry chimed it. "nor do i."

"you would if you knew everything i've done."

"i wouldn't. i know much more than you think i do." she opened her mouth to question the vague statement, but he cut her off. "ah i must be going."

•••

riddle was fucking determined, if nothing else. 

it was almost four in the morning, and there he was on the common room couch reading as though it was the afternoon. nott and lestrange were asleep on either side of him. malfoy was drifting between wake and sleep in a chair, but shot to alertness as the dungeon door crept open.

he looked up when she entered, and she rolled her eyes at him. she was unbelievably tired, and dealing with him was not on her list of priorities right now. "determined, are we?"

he closed his book, turning up his face in a derisive smirk. "i was concerned for your safety, edwards. no one knows what prowls through the castle in the night."

"other than arrogant teenage boys?"

he stood from the couch, eyes directly on hers. "do not lie. where were you?"

she considered him for a moment. "that doesn't matter, does it? you won't believe any answer i give, so why answer at all?" she said, using his words from weeks ago against him.

there were a _lot_ of things wrong with riddle, but one of them was his incessant need for direct eye contact. she wondered if that was a dominance thing, or if it was just easier for him to perform legilimency that way.

malfoy spoke, slurring through his tiredness. only then did sicaria see the discarded bottle of mead. it seemed that they'd been drinking for a while, waiting on her. "look, she's alive. can i go to bed now?"

sicaria chuckled tiredly. "goodnight, both of you."

she made her way over across the common room as malfoy woke the other two sleeping slytherins on the couch. she heard them stir, and turned back for a moment. riddles eyes followed her, seemingly debating with himself.

"oh," she said turning back to malfoy. "i meant to tell you earlier, but i have to leave your parents house on the 23rd."

malfoy nodded absently. "not a problem. doubt they'll notice."

riddle eyed her questioningly. 

she ignored him. 

no matter. he'd just ask again in the morning.


	32. xxx.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm so sorry this took so long to get out, but i was going through a bit of writers block. i knew how i wanted this chapter to turn out, but it took a while before i got it right, so enjoy

december 1944

"diane, laurelie, katherine, angela, sandy, you all look lovely tonight." sicaria made her way from her dorm to the common room, which was full of slytherins (and a few of their dates) on their way to the great hall where the ball was to be held. she approached her five friends and their five dates, only addressing the women.

"oh you're too kind, sicaria." katherine said smiling with closed lips, as though it pained her. katherine was such a genuinely pleasant woman, but she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else than here standing next to tom. "i absolutely love what you've done with your hair."

"you look gorgeous as well," the women gave several of those well practiced compliments that ladies gave each other out of habit. it was instinctual. sexist, but that's just the world they lived in. 

she made no move to address any of the boys, though the intensity of riddle's gaze made her want to blush, but it didn't matter. they spoke to her first.

"well don't you look like a well-groomed harpy," malfoy said, and sicaria put a hand to her chest and gasped in mock astonishment. his date slapped his arm and glared at him like she thought he was being serious. sicaria felt an unexpected rush of affection for the girl.

"unoriginal, malfoy. you said the same thing to me at slughorns halloween party." sicaria grinned at him as he rolled his eyes.

"no, no. if my memory serves me correctly, he called you a shrew, not a harpy." lestrange interjected smiling at her as they walked out of the common room. sicaria only then wondered if it was a coincidence, or if they had waited for her, though she was none of their dates.

upon further inspection though, none of them seemed to be positively happy, even though some of their plastered on smiles were rather convincing. some of them didn't even bother to hide it.

they all looked rather miserable, actually. 

sicaria _loved_ it. 

diane seemed to be the only one who was genuinely excited with her date, clinging to thomas tightly. he seemed somewhat happy, if not a bit overwhelmed by her advances. in fact, thomas looked almost frightened. 

laurelie and adonis looked rather nice together, but something about laurelie's body language and lingering glances told sicaria that she was much more interested in _sandy_ (or angela, sicaria still couldn't tell which was which) than she was into adonis. he looked like his pride was hurt, but not particularly offended, smiling as elegantly as he always did. he'd easily be able to find another witch to bother during the ball.

adrien and his date seemed to get along fine, even making polite conversation with each other, but it became abundantly clear her ulterior motives. every few seconds, she would sneak a glance at between tom and adonis. sicaria couldn't tell if adrien noticed it or not.

whichever one of the twins that abraxas was going with was paying vehement attention to adrien, staring daggers at her sister, much do abraxas' clear dismay. that twin, didn't seem to realize that her sister wasn't much interested in lestrange.

katherine and riddle seemed to outright resent each other. they didn't speak to each other, they didn't look at each other and their combined stock still posture showed how truly uncomfortable the pair of them were. the only part of them that touched were their intertwined arms, but that was more out of a sense of obligation than enjoyment

sicaria almost wanted to laugh before she remembered she'd be going with davies. 

it felt like karma had caught up to her for her thoughts immediately. 

the five couples and sicaria made their way down the candlelit hallway, sicaria choosing to speak to katherine and laurelie most of the way. they somehow ended up on the topic of post-graduation career plans. katherine already had an internship lined up for her at the german ministry of magic and laurelie said that she planned on trying out for the hollyhead harpies. sicaria made up a lie about joining the london philharmonic.

the group of them turned a corner, when a pair of people, arm in arm blocked her path. 

"oh christ."

sicaria's eyes nearly bulged out of her head before she disguised her laugh as a cough. adrien noticed, winking cheekily at her.

venus davidson and alexei leonov. 

what an _interesting_ pair.

they walked arm-in-arm, tightly coiled together. venus' midnight blue dress cascaded down her frame, matching leonov's dress robes. he towered over venus' small frame, but their heights complemented each other well. atop her head sat a headband that looked closer to a tiara than anything else. a shame venus' beauty was wasted on such a callous woman. perhaps she'd grow out of it.

sicaria would have scoffed, laughed, and said they deserved each other if not for the fact that she didn't want to see either of them right now, but they seemed hell bent on talking to her, or perhaps just antagonizing her.

at least, leonov was. 

venus smirked at her, like she'd _won_ something in leonov as he spoke to her. "merlin, ms. edwards. you are truly a vision."

adonis was still holding laurelie's arm as sicaria felt him stiffen slightly, drawing himself up to seem taller. _cute._

sicaria actually _was_ a vision tonight. her black dress took on a silver shimmer in certain lights. it was long and backless, though the the neckline was high and the sleeves went all the way down to her fingertips. she'd put glamours on her skin to hide her few visible tattoos and several of the scars lining her skin. the dress was synched at the waist, making her the picture of elegance, especially with the silver lace gloves that slid up her forearms. she'd even transfigured a streak of her hair to be silver for the evening. 

"how kind of you, leonov. venus you look beautiful." she said, looking at neither of them as she attempted to keep walking past. they followed; they were all going to the same destination.

what had prompted venus to go with leonov? as far as sicaria could remember, venus _hated_ gryffindors, and they all seemed to hold a bit of disdain toward slytherin. the house rivalry was childish in sicaria's opinion, but all the students seemed to hold on to it tightly. perhaps it was because leonov's objective attractiveness was enough to eclipse the _unspeakable horror_ that was his hogwarts house. sicaria found that leonov was apparently very highly sought after, throughout other houses and his own.

"oh thank you, sicaria," venus said in her usual shrill, bubbly tone. she beamed at sicaria, her perfect teeth mockingly white. venus was overwhelmingly passive aggressive, and sicaria almost admired how she could phrase the vilest, cruelest taunts while not batting an eyelash nor changing her tone. "oh don't tell me you're going alone? a shame fo-"

venus knew damn well who sicaria was going with. venus made sure to keep tabs on her old friend.

"ah, _there_ you are, ed- sicaria," davies seemed to materialize out of nowhere, passing leonov and davidson to get to sicaria. he held out his hand, and kissed the back of her hand gloved when she placed it in his palm. he whispered in her ear. "i apologize for the lateness, but it seems i've come to the rescue."

she rolled her eyes and painted on a loving smile as she linked arms with him. he peered down at her.

"i haven't forgotten that you owe me a dance, ms. edwards." leonov called as the _seven_ couples made their way down the hallway. katherine and diane both seemed to be gritting their teeth, but sandy, angela, and laurelie were all obliviously confused by the open hostility that was in all of their tones. "i do hope you won't be too _busy_ to forget me."

adrien and adonis both seemed to be getting fed up as they rounded on him. adrien spoke first. "sod off _,_ leonov. whatever you're playing at, cut it out."

leonov smirked and cocked his head to the side, but venus leaned over him and spoke before he could. "christ, lestrange. don't be so easily manipulated." 

it hurt sicaria that venus was right. hot-headedness was supposed to be a gryffindor trait, but perhaps the boys loyalty toward defending her overtook that. 

or maybe they just had possession issues. she chose to ignore that this was the more likely conclusion.

malfoy snorted. "you should be the last telling people not to be manipulated, davidson."

_oh christ._

her eyes narrowed. "what are you getting at, malfoy?"

"you think he'd be going with you for any other reason than to get a rise out of edwards?" sicaria's eyes flickered between the entire group of people, trying to figure out the best, quickest way to appease this situation.

oh _christ._ davies whispered in her ear, "what in merlins name is going on, edwards? i'm your date, aren't i supposed to be getting into fights defending your honor?"

she scowled and slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"venus, doll, ignore our bitter rivalry. that's completely untrue." leonov said, looking far more amused than apologetic. sicaria wondered if he took anything seriously. he ran his hand up and down the side of venus' abdomen, rippling the blue sequins that lined her bodice. 

the click of the women's heels slowed as the group came to something of a pause.

"it isn't? is that not why you asked her only _after_ edwards turned you down?" malfoy continued on, and sicaria turned her head to shoot the deadliest glare she could at adonis. he was the only other person in the hallway when he'd asked her. rosier grinned sheepishly in response, but there was no hint of remorse in his eyes. 

for once, abraxas' date seemed to be paying rapt attention to him, smiling serenely at his aggression. 

they were attracting attention from other people in the hallway. this needed to end. now.

"that has nothing- what?" venus stumbled over her words, turning to leonov with a questioning leer.

sicaria was vindictive (though she hated to admit it), but conflicted. she loved seeing venus miserable, but couldn't help the guilt that came with it. venus was a bitch, but constantly being called inferior to someone you hate had to sting. abraxas was smart in his insults; he picked apart her insecurities and her jealousy of sicaria. he wasn't doing it for sicaria's benefit though, he just wanted to see venus hurt.

sicaria wondered if malfoy and davidson had history.

malfoy's eyes glinted, knowing he had hit his mark. the slytherin in him shone through as his voice turned into that taunting drawl that made sicaria's blood boil on command. "how does it feel, davidson? coming in second to edwards even after you aren't kissing her arse anymo-"

"abraxas!" sicaria hissed. 

at the same time, nott cut in. "that's enough, malfoy." diane lit up at his commanding tone.

"stop." riddle deadpanned, simultaneously. 

katherine was struggling to conceal a laugh. sicaria wondered if the two of them had some sort of history as well. adrien made no move to stop abraxas, and rosier seemed to be just on the verge of egging him on to continue. 

leonov led a disbelieving venus away from them, him mumbling about how none of that was true, and how excited he was to be dancing with her. venus, in her confident nature, ate all of it up, muttering back about how abraxas was a crude, lying asshole. 

the remaining six couples had stopped. sicaria rounded on malfoy.

rosier frowned, eyeing her dissatisfaction. "you're upset."

 _clearly._ "you should not have said that to her." she said in malfoy's direction.

he shrugged. "she called you a prostitute."

"i've been called worse," she responded. angela and sandy were whispering to each other. "you called me a bitch on the first day we met."

"that's not the same." his own anger started to flare up. "you know damn well i don't actually think of you as a bitch nor a shrew or harpy."

"nice to know," she snorted. "don't pretend any of that was for my benefit."

"am i not permitted to defend my... _friend_?" he said the word like it burned him, and he grimaced. 

"why do you dislike her so much?" she said in a lower tone as the group continued walking. he peered at her for a moment before looking away. 

"you have your secrets, edwards. i'm entitled to my own."

 _my secrets would put your life in danger._ "i suppose that's fair." if he didn't want to tell her, fine. she wouldn't pry, even if that's what they would do to her in the same situation. "just stop using me to justify lashing out at her."

she swallowed her cynical thoughts as davies opened the door for her, leading into the winter wonderland that decorated the great hall. 

•••

sicaria once again found herself at the drink table, downing a quick shot of tequila. it was several hours into the evening, and she found that it was much more dreadful than she could have ever imagined. it was impossible to endure sober, but she was certain that she hadn't gotten to the worst part (leonov hadn't approached her yet, but she wasn't naïve enough to pray he'd forgotten), and she needed to have her wits about her.

there was no short supply of suitors asking her for a dance in the meantime. she'd danced with davies (reluctantly), richardson, tremblay, mulciber, fleamont potter (who specifically warned her about leonov), sugiyama, finnegan and several other boys that she vaguely recognized, but could not recall their names.

adonis took note of her quickly dampening mood earlier in the night, teasing her about how she was much too _kind_ to turn them down. 

"it's bad etiquette to decline a dance." she grumbled, sipping her water to chase down the tequila burning her throat. it did nothing to quell the stinging.

rosier snorted, between dances. his date had gotten lost somewhere, so he had spent the nest of the night with the twin she now knew to be sandy. "since when have you even been concerned with etiquette?"

"fair point, but i can be a lady when i want to." davies had disappeared also, but not before asking her if his ' _services were paid in full_ '. diane and thomas had left together _very_ early in the night, and sicaria only hoped they were having fun together. the rest of the boys were seated at a table on the outskirts of the dancefloor, all varying stages of intoxicated. lestrange's tie was gone, and angela (the other twin) was sitting on his lap. katherine was off dancing with her boyfriend, looking considerably happier in the hufflepuff's presence, and malfoy sat, laughing loudly at something riddle said. riddle must have been extremely drunk, because though his face was still mostly neutral, a faint smile could be seen if you looked closely enough. not a smirk, a smile. 

"sicaria," a voice said behind her, and she whirled around to see healer miranda standing behind her, smiling in pure amusement. sicaria shooed rosier away, and he obeyed, much to intoxicated for any espionage.

"oh hello, healer miranda," she responded dopily, taking another sip. "come to drug test me?"

the woman smiled, swirling around a drink in her hand. "how are you, dear?"

"peachy," she shrugged. she wondered how the professors had enchanted the hall; it gave two people the ability to converse without raising their voices, but the music from the live quintet was still very loud in her ears. "i got your note by the way."

"several weeks after i left it." miranda sipped what looked like brandy in the wide glass. 

"still got it eventually, didn't i?" now that coke was on sicaria's mind, she wanted nothing more than to do a few lines. she ran over the numbers in her head; she could sneak out to doors quickly and slip back up to her dorm. she could also summon it straight to her, but that would be too risky. she'd also had a _lot_ of alcohol.

"i suppose so. i'd like to see you after the holiday."

"why?" sicaria narrowed her eyes, reaching for another vodka shot. she downed it, looking straight into the healer's eyes that were filled with tipsy jubilation. 

"just to check in and make sure you actually are alright." she said, almost too nonchalantly.

"i'm fi-"

"it wasn't a question, sicaria." her blue robes shimmered as she patted sicaria's shoulder. it was funny how interactions could be perceived from different viewpoints; miranda had probably meant it to feel commanding, but sicaria took it as a challenge. "i'll see you, or i'll get your head of house to make you. _or dumbledore_. i'll see you soon."

the healer didn't ask if she had used again. no one likes being lied to.

sicaria stood stunned for a moment, as a wave of anger at the woman's threat washed over her. she took another shot, stupidly. looking up at the sky, she saw the illusion of the snow falling, and noticed that when it hit the ground of the hall, it dissolved into some kind of magical glitter substance. she tilted her head back down and sighed.

she slowly followed in rosier's footsteps, making her way back to where her friends sat. she was drunk enough to feel a bit more emotional, but not so much that she couldn't think clearly. she let her eyes wander across the hall, looking at professors dumbledore and silva sharing a lively dance to a salsa that was currently playing. that may have been the first time that sicaria hadn't seen the woman look completely disinterested. 

though it was late in the evening, barely anyone had retired to bed yet. the room was still packed full of women in elegant ballgowns and men in both suits and dress robes. some stood in corners, talking and indulging in the assortment of both magical and muggle drinks (alcoholic and non). others laughed as they danced in groups of friends and couples, having the time of their lives being teenagers before they had to be released back into the grim reality of the real world. the sight almost made her want to cry as she reminisced about never being able to escape like that without the use of drugs. no amount of alcohol or friendship would be able to even temporarily allow her to ignore the world; for her fate and the war were irrevocably intertwined for the foreseeable future.

she wallowed in the self pity for a moment as she jealously watched the teenagers simply living their lives. this was the closest sicaria had _ever_ been to living a normal life, but she couldn't even go a full hour without being reminded that she was not the same as them, and she never would be. she'd never get the first eighteen years of her life back

_just a year and a few days. it's almost over._

she was released from her melancholy by one of the many house elves scattering the floor holding drinks and refreshments. they all wore black ties; some equipped with bottles and glasses, the others with platters of food. the elf standing before her pulled slightly on her dress to get her attention. he looked up at her with a questioning look that dissolved into a smile. 

"miss is looking unhappy. is miss wanting any food?" the elf held the platter of what looked like balsamic bruschetta over his head. 

she took one from the platter, not because she was hungry, but because she hoped it would make the elf happy. elves liked when people appreciated their work. "thank you very much."

she smiled down at the elf as it lowered the platter, a watery smile on his face. "miss is very kind! garry hopes that miss has a wonderful night!"

the house elf bustled away, leaving sicaria to wonder if they had been commanded not to stay in one place for a long time. 

the universe truly must have been angry with her, because it was at the moment that she sat down with her friends that leonov decided it was the perfect moment to approach her. his taunting was quite obvious; making a scene with her in front of the boys, but she shot adonis and adrien a pleading look, asking them not to respond. they scowled, but didn't act.

she sighed and took his hand with minimal hesitation.

_let's get this over with._

"you know the american foxtrot, don't you?" he said, guiding her across the hall to the dancefloor. he was emphasizing his accent as he talked down to her, almost like he was threatening her to try and slip away. he made sure to force her to pass the table where her friends sat, but the scowl on her face was quite evident. 

"is there anyone on the planet who doesn't?" 

he laughed while he reached for her as the next song started to play. the hand that was not in hers slid around her waist. she found herself being somewhat grateful that he'd kept his hand in a respectably high place, and kept a few inches of space between their bodies. 

they moved gracefully to the music, leonov being a very talented dancer. she felt her back occasionally brush past the other partners/couples dancing around them. 

he stared down at her as they moved, observing her as she vehemently avoided making eye contact with him. she should have been glad he didn't want to speak, but she wasn't naïve enough not to be uneasy. he was being suspiciously silent; everyone else she'd danced with had been practically bursting at the seams with things to say to her. 

earlier in the night, she had danced the an argentine waltz with rosier, as they both struggled to conceal their laughs at the sharp, dramatic body movements. he intentionally messed up a few steps. 

she had two different partners for a viennese waltz; davies and riddle. davies was an abysmal dancer, struggling to keep in time with the music, but they ended up switching partners. sicaria could not focus on how she and riddle danced together, because she was too busy arguing with him about how learning ballroom dance was a remnant of a stupid traditionalist society. she couldn't tell whether he actually agreed with her or not, only that he'd always choose to debate any opinion she had on any matter.

her best partner had been a hufflepuff boy who she'd interrogated a few weeks prior. he was a perfect partner while they danced a samba, and even made polite conversation. after they finished, he'd thanked her for ' _allowing him the pleasure of having a good partner for his favorite dance.'_ she smiled at him. 

the suspense was starting to wear away at her as she waited for leonov to try whatever it was he was planning. 

she finally made eye contact with him. his eyes flashed in triumph and he spoke immediately. 

"have i done something to offend you?"

he spun her. she avoided his eyes once again as she turned to face him. "i thought i'd made that clear."

"then i apologize most profusely." she stumbled slightly as someone bumped into her back. 

"what's done is done." she said airily, though the hostility was evident in his tone.

"i'd like to take you on a date. for the next hogsmeade trip after the holidays." her eyes snapped to his in disbelief. he couldn't possibly think she'd say yes, and if he did, he must have been the most arrogant man on the planet.

"once again, i'll have to decline."

he hummed slightly as they danced for a few moments in silence. 

the song began to decrescendo, signaling that it was nearing the end. 

"why?"

she scowled at him. "i don't owe you an explanation."

"i was under the impression that you and davies were not together." he said with a polite tone, ignoring anything she said. 

_don't get angry. band things happen when you don't control yourself._

"we aren't, but that isn't why. do i need to spell out that i'm uninterested? what can i do to make you understand that nothing you do nor say will make me want to go out with you, leonov?"

he frowned like he cared what she wanted. "that's most unfortunate, but i do hope one day you'll forgive me for continuing to try."

"you're wasting your time. it's bordering harassment and i will not hesitate to hex you."

"i apologize for doing anything to make you uncomfortable, but i'd gladly take several hexes if it meant that you'd grace me with your company." she could hex him so that his heart started to bleed into his lungs. he'd die drowning and choking on his own blood.

"do you hear yourself? you realize i see through all this shit right?"

"i don't understand." he cocked his head to the side and smiled at her. he bowed and she curtsied, as was customary at the end of a dance. all she could think about was how close his eyes were, and how little force it would take to gouge them out of his head.

"you do, and it's obvious." the dance finally ended, but his grasp on her hand stayed tightly. it would only take one swift movement to break his arm. "i'll repeat it again. nothing you do or say will make me go out with you, leonov. nothing at all."

he grinned down at her and cocked his head to the side. 

it was chilling. 

he kissed her hand. "i'm sure we'll be seeing each other quite soon, ms. edwards. i hope the rest of this night is as lovely as you are."

it was a threat. she wanted to cut his tongue out of his mouth. or rip his vocal chords from his larynx.

she needed a drink. he's a _teenager._ she'd dealt with international terrorist, and she was stressing herself over a teenager who couldn't take no for an answer. 

she truly was a fish out of water. she didn't know how to navigate this world of adolescence because she had never learned how, and now that she was thrown into it, she was struggling to find a way to adapt.

she quickly made her way back to the table, plopping down in a seat between riddle and adonis. she sat across from nott who had just returned, donning an expression sicaria couldn't decipher. riddle's eyes did not leave hers as she sat next to him, a strange look taking over them. she wondered how drunk he actually was as she eyed a few empty glasses on the table shared between the three boys. he made no move to speak, but rosier did. 

"that bad, was it?" rosier said, grinning sympathetically at her. his tone suddenly changed to the one that she recognized as _scheming._ "you know, there are things we could do to him to get him to leave you alone."

she shook her head and then rested it in her palm. "you'll get caught."

"we- i've done much worse and never have."

"i don't want you getting caught doing something unjustifiable in my defense," she sighed, looking away from him and down at the faux icicles that hung from the edge of the table. "the last thing i want is more people getting in trouble because of me."

they said things they shouldn't have. 

there were a few moments of silence as they observed each others words. 

"leonov is abhorrently transparent."

her head snapped to riddle as he spoke for the first time since she'd sat down. 

she nodded. "sometimes i wonder if it's on purpose, but i can't understand why."

adrien mumbled something that sounded like ' _sodding gryffindors_ ' under his breath. 

"you knew very well how to get rid of them."

"none of them are within the rules." she snorted. rosier and nott had dissolved into conversation, pointing and laughing at professors dancing around the hall. lestrange and malfoy seemed to be in the midst of some kind of heated debate.

"perhaps not," he said, taking a sip of what looked like whiskey. "disregard the rules for a moment. what lengths would you go to to get rid of him?"

"why are you asking me this?"

"what curse would you use on him?" his eyes glinted as she narrowed hers at him. "would you use that on you used on me in the library? or perhaps just torture him?"

"i am not a sadist." she spat through gritted teeth, pretending to be offended by the prospect. 

he saw through it. he always did.

"you've continuously made that claim, but i've seen that you-"

"you know _nothing_ about me." she looked at his eyes, but saw nothing she could interpret.

"i _do_. i know that you want leonov to leave you alone, but you wont do anything about it because you're afraid you'll lose control on him."

she was silent for a moment. "i want to be rid of him, but not by any inethical means."

"stop pretending to be righteous for one moment, edwards," his tone was laced with exasperation. "allow yourself to be released from the restraints of morality and for a moment, let yourself indulge. thinking, my dear, will not taint you. and if you were to do something, you could heal and obliviate him, and he'd be none the wiser."

"why do you say things like that?" it was so odd how riddle managed to be so persuasive that sometimes she felt compelled to do whatever he told her. she would not let herself sink so low. "why do you talk like that? like you know more than you should for your age?"

he grinned at her and moved his eyes along her arm where his fingers traced runes into her skin. "i'm perceptive. i see things that others do not. for instance, i see the murderous glint in your eye every time he approaches you."

her jaw dropped and she gaped at him. "stop it!" she whispered, hoping he'd take the hint not to say such things so loudly.

"stop what?" his hands stilled, but his touch was not what she was referring to.

"you've just accused me of having homicidal fantasies."

his hands resumed their trail down her arm. "we are all sinners, edwards. there is no reason to limit yourself to a sense of morality that you do not truly feel."

"i don't what to kill him."

"then do what you need to do," he said, gazing into her eyes like he'd just made a breakthrough. "or rather, what you _want_ to do."

"we can't all get what we want, can we?"

"what is it you want, edwards?"

she stared at him for a moment, and pleaded with him using her eyes. "i'm not in the mood for the games tonight, riddle."

"i've only asked a question." a challenging smirk appeared on his lips. her eyes flickered to them so briefly that it was possible he didn't notice. 

a foolish hope.

"what would you do if i asked you that same question?" she glared at him, blinking as he appraised her. "what is it _you_ want, riddle?"

he stared at her for a moment, like he was looking straight through her. his eyes glazed over as he seemed to be having a conversation with himself, and he finally decided. he stood abruptly from the table, causing adonis and thomas to turn in surprise.

he grabbed her arm and pulled her through the great hall, weaving through couples and groups of friends. davies mockingly saluted her on her way out from a nearby table, sitting with members of the ravenclaw quidditch team. rosier and nott laughed, causing more of their friends attention to go to the pair of them. 

"careful, riddle," she hissed lowly. "someone might see you and you'll ruin that perfect, little reputation of yours."

his steps slow to a sudden halt, and he turned back to her. he stared at her, appraising her, as though he'd just seen something he'd never seen before.

his entire demeanor turned so icy for a moment that sicaria almost wanted to retract the words. 

"shut up, sicaria."

she did. the shock was enough to make her go silent.

he pulled her out of the great hall doors, walking so quickly that they might as well have been running thought the corridors. all she could think about is how right now, he was holding her hand instead of guiding her by the wrist as usual. she wondered if that meant something. 

she didn't let it mean anything.

the tapping of their shoes on the floor was fast paced as he guided them down the hallway into a small, dark alcove across from an arched window, where the two of them could see the snowfall. the moonlight illuminated the snow as it fell. it looked so, _so_ cold.

all she could feel was heat.

he wasted no time grabbing her face, turning her away from the weather, and capturing her attention in a fiery kiss. he kissed her with a ferocity that was as passionate as always, but was slightly sloppy due to their mutual intoxication. her lips would be bruised, she already knew. it felt like he was punishing her, but for what, she did not know. perhaps he knew, but did not want to admit it to himself.

he kissed her, and it was like he was drinking the alcohol off her tongue.

her eyes fluttered closed as she kissed him back immediately, and he moved his hands dangerously low onto her hips, digging into her skin as though she'd fly away if he lightened his grip. she put her hand along his cheek, cupping his face as he kissed her, and he ran his hands along her body. his fingers dug into the contours of her body as he continued to kiss, bite, and suck at her lips.

he pulled himself away from her mouth for a moment, planting a trail down her jaw and down her throat, and mumbled against her neck. " _fuck_ , you taste like tequila."

his voice might be one of the most intoxicating things about riddle. 

"and you," she barely fought back the moan that threatened to escape her at the sound of his swear. "taste like whiskey."

he chuckled into her skin, sucking lightly. she brought her hands to his collar, undoing his green tie and working her way down his buttons. 

he pulled out his wand from his robes as he discarded them, and cast _finite_ over her neck. the faded bruises and still prominent bitemark seemed to appease him as he smiled at the sight of the marks. "i wondered why you covered them. i think they're rather pretty, don't you?"

_i'm fucked._

her mind wandered back to her cocaine-induced euphoria where she pored over the marks for several moments in the mirror, agonizing over how much she enjoyed the sight of him on her skin. she didn't know how to respond without embarrassing herself. luckily, he didn't seem expect her to say anything. a moan escaped her as she tilted her head back when he sucked on the spot of her collarbone that sent her into a frenzy.

he groaned slightly as her fingers traced their way down his abdomen. he had several scars along his chest that she could feel, but it was too dark to see. they were both breathing heavily, her moaning faintly at the ever-pleasant sensation of his mouth against the skin of her throat. he mumbled things that she swore she never thought he'd say to her. he called her _tempting,_ a _vixen,_ and a _test of his self control._ she forced herself just to live in the moment, and not overanalyze it. perhaps rid- _tom_ was just a passionate lover.

she didn't let it mean anything.

his hands traveled lower, bunching up the hem of her dress slightly so that he could wrap her left leg around him through the slit. he guided her back into the wall, and they both moaned as he ground his pelvis into hers, sending the familiar feeling of arousal through both of their bodies. she rolled her hips back into him, and he bit down slightly on her to suppress a groan. she felt a sensation in her lower abdomen that resembled that of the precursor to apparation.

he grabbed both of her wrists in one hand, and pinned them above her head. she let him.

she couldn't remember a time where she had felt so much. 

his chest against hers. his hand holding her wrists. his arm pulling her waist. their pelvises pressed together. his mouth abusing hers. 

it was exhilaration like she'd never felt before. his touch felt like ecstasy.

the anticipation hit her furiously. 

she could feel the arousal starting to pool in the bottom of her stomach. she could feel him hard, him pressing against her thigh.

she was about to sleep with riddle. 

she was about to _sleep with_ riddle. 

she was about to sleep with _riddle._

 _she_ was ab-

"no." he panted, and pulled his body off of hers, but her arms are still trapped in his grip held above her head. the word sounded like it was painful for him to say. he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring at her disheveled appearance. his gaze seemed to be fixated on her throat.

she was still catching her breath as she tried to make out his expression. confusion was evident in her tone. "no?" 

"no." he finalized, and she felt his hot exhales all over, simultaneously cooling and warming his saliva on her neck. he was looking at her so intensely that her eyes burned under his gaze. "not like this. when this happens, i want it to be completely sober, in the light, and i'm not going to rush. i want to take my time with you and you're going to remember every second of it."

"i-" she swallowed at the declaration, which did nothing to calm her down. "alright."

"don't look so downtrodden," he waved his wand, restoring the both of them to exactly how they'd looked before they entered the alcove. sicaria made a note to ask him about that spell, it being one that she didn't recognize. it even replaced the glamours that he had gotten rid of. "i promise it'll happen soon enough, darling."

she scowled at the insinuation before changing the subject. "you realize the lesson you've tried to teach me has backfired yes? i'm not going to attack leonov because there are consequences i want to avoid. you didn't want to... you stopped a situation because there are consequences that _you_ want to avoid."

he raised an eyebrow at her. _no, no. she isn't getting away that easily._ "and what was the situation i avoided, my temptress?"

sicaria huffed as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress (which was perfectly in place). she avoided his eyes as they walked out of the alcove. "you know damn well what it was."

"no, of course i do," he shook his head and linked his arm in hers as they stared together out the snowy window. "but i think i'd enjoy hearing you say it. i've never had the pleasure of listening to you say something unrehearsed. i'd like to hear the words."

she stared up at him and swallowed.

he smirked down at her, and cupped her cheek. 

"tell me what i was going to do to you, sicaria. tell me what you were going to _let_ me to to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the part of this book following this chapter have been some of my favorite things to write. it's much more difficult writing about magic than i thought it would be, but i genuinely think you'll enjoy these upcoming chapters very much. i try to go into good detail about the lore and mythology that i pull most of my ideas about magic from, so be prepared for a lot of dark magic coming up


	33. xxxi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight trigger for this chapter, but nothing too gory if you don't have a wild imagination. enjoy!

december 1944  
tw: blood, depiction of violence

sicaria stared at him, and he looked down at her expectantly. she did not oblige him. 

"you know," she started, looking into riddles eyes. "i don't think there's a word in the english language that accurately describes you."

his lip quirked up slightly. "you're unbelievably difficult."

she looked away and chuckled. was he expecting anything less? he'd stated many times that he viewed her as a challenge, a puzzle to be solved, but still seemed to consistently be surprised every time he uncovered a new layer about her. 

he gestured forward with one arm. they walked together, not touching and not talking, back in the direction of the great hall. in all honesty, sicaria didn't really want to go back and party. she _wanted_ to go to her room and have a bit of fun before the holidays, or at least go out into the courtyard to clear her head, but there was no version of events that didn't lead to riddle following her. she'd just have to find a way to slip off in the commotion of the dance. 

they turned a corner, and saw their four friends talking in hushed angry tones. she stopped and made herself silent, hoping to catch on to a few words of whatever they were talking about, but riddle cleared his throat, seeming to catch on to her plan. the four heads turned like deer caught in headlights. all the anger and unease on their faces dissolved immediately. nott sent riddle a tense look that she could not decipher. 

suddenly, it was like all the animosity in the hallway had disappeared into thin air. malfoy smirked at the pair of them, and rosier gave them a coy smile. 

"back so soon?" lestrange said, barely being able to keep the laughter out of his voice. 

sicaria waited a moment before answering. she'd get nowhere if she asked a question about whatever the hell they were discussing with such hostility. 

she pressed her lips together, but then chose to ignore it. it was pointless. 

"why? didn't miss me?"

they seemed relieved that she didn't ask. 

"no. in fact i'm rather disappointed to see you both." rosier said leaning up against the wall. he raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "ready to tell us what's going on between the two of you?"

riddle stepped toward him but rosier didn't falter. sicaria, on the other hand rolled her eyes. "no idea what you're talking about."

"do you take us for fools? you two-"

she didn't have to listen to this. she couldn't give them an answer she didn't have yet, so she did what she always did. she turned around and started walking away. "goodnight, you five."

they were whispering something she couldn't make out. 

"common room is the other way, edwards."

"not going to the common room, malfoy."

she heard their steps retracing her own and smirked a bit. of course they'd follow her.

"where are you going?"

"not here!"

she continued down the hallway, them walking around her, but she was still determining the destination. several times, there were protestations and complaints from lestrange and nott that going to the forbidden forest in the middle of the night was dangerous and 'scary', but sicaria continued to remind them that they had every right not to come with her. 

they made their way out of the castle, talking, laughing, and tripping over tree roots on the grounds. the alcohol they'd consumed had finally started to run its course, and combined with the unbelievable cold of the december weather, they were shocked back to sobriety. 

•••

they'd spent little over an hour traipsing throughout the forest, running into only a few magical beasts. they came across a group of thestrals (which they could all see, though none of them pointed out that fact), several jackalopes, and a unicorn that bolted before they could even get a clear glimpse of it. 

the cold was starting to wear away at their warming charms. the scenery of the forest also made everything feel cold; the moon and stars, the tall, rustling trees, the sound of the leaves crunching beneath their feet. the whole area felt nothing short of spooky. 

they had neglected to mark a trail back toward the castle, so they used a directional spell, which led them eastward and toward the edge of the forest. riddle was leading the way.

the faint wind whistled through the tree branches.

"oi, do you hear that?" nott said, a pang of paranoia seeping through his tone. he had been on edge since they stepped out of the castle.

malfoy snorted, stepping over a tree root. "it's a forest, nott. of course there are sounds."

but at that moment, sicaria froze in her tracks. the aura of dark magic descended upon them with a ferocity that almost made her stumble. she could feel it creeping upon them, coating them. a violently pungent smell started to protrude from the direction that they were travelling.

birds and owls flew from the trees, scattering in all directions. they radiated away from the epicenter, looked to be only a few hundred feet from where the six of them stood. while observing the birds, sicaria caught sight of the moon. the ground gave a low rumble as animals ran, flew, and teleported away.

she racked her brain. _dementors?_

"i dunno," not shrugged. none of them had noticed her hesitation, nor the odd shift in the demeanor of the fores. "just sounds a little odd." _a banshee?_

"wait." sicaria barely recognized her own voice. 

something was wrong. unnatural. 

they turned back to look at her as she peered into the darkness of the forest. "edwards? are-"

but then the rest of them froze too. they could sense it. their wands were drawn at lightning speeds, _lumos_ charms everywhere trying to see what was causing the disturbance. 

this didn't feel like an creature. it felt like an aura. it was surrounding and choking them as whatever the source of it came nearer.

then, the six of them saw it. 

there was an animal, larger than all of their bodies combined standing on a large rock several yards in front of them. it was on four legs, but it was too far away and too dark for her to be able to tell exactly what it was. all she could see were its eyes that seemed to be glowing black. never before had sicaria seen a _vibrant_ black. 

it didn't make a noise, but there was something of an ambient buzz surrounding them. sicaria could feel the air shifting in her ears. the smell protruding made her eyes and throat burn as she forced herself to maintain their breathing.

adonis whispered something that she couldn't make out. they all began backing out of the clearing, not taking their eyes off the animal. they were going deeper into the forest, but none of them could think of a way to get around the animal.

they only made it a few yards before the animal jumped off of the rock ledge, and began prowling toward them. the buzz grew louder.

"do not run," riddle said, aiming his wand at the creature that was making strides toward them. for every step they took back, it took two forward.

sicaria's mouth went dry. the magic surrounding this animal was _dark._ darker than many auras she'd ever felt before. the eyes of the animal went feral as it started to pick up speed toward them. 

malfoy casted the first spell. a simple stunner directly at the animal. it didn't flinch. 

three stunners at once. nothing. the red spells lit up the sky but dimmed before they could even touch the creature.

sicaria tried a petrification jinx. nothing. 

they were walking backward as fast as they could when malfoy tripped. the creature let out a howl. it was a horrible, wretched sound; like rusted metal scraping against itself. the hairs on her neck stood up at the sound.

it came barreling toward them. it took leaps so far and fast that it looked like the creature was teleporting

spells went into the air like crazy. the clearing they were in was alight with the magic flowing between them. seconds passed, and as none of them worked on the creature, still leaping toward them, they shifted from nonverbal to verbal. 

nothing was working, so they needed something stronger.

" _et occidit animam._ "

" _dilabique non sinat._ " the dark curse made sicaria's arm burn as she casted it. 

" _recedo aeternum._ "

sicaria used both her wandless arm and her wand to pull trees, bending them in the center to create a barrier between the creature and them, but the animal shot straight through the trees. 

it disintegrated and materialized _through_ the tree.

almost like it was incorporeal.

soulless. 

a hellhound. 

they were now casting quickly in rapid succession, the desperation present in their voices. sicaria gave up on offence, and simply casted a large protego that the animal hit, but leapt through upon the second try. they needed to run, but couldn't risk turning their backs.

it growled, and leapt into the sky only twenty yards from them. 

the black-eyed animal did not stop. it was hit with stunners, impediment jinxes, and petrification spells, but it did not slow in the slightest, it's stench burning her eyes and throat.

it landed and it got closer and closer as their voices got louder and louder until they were practically screaming spells. 

they wouldn't be able to outrun it.

the hellhound leapt upward again and seemed as though it was flying.

and then, four things happened at once. 

" _avada kedavra!_ " riddle and sicaria yelled at the same time as the creature came hurtling in toward abraxas. 

rosier sent a curse that shot out what looked like a black lightning bolt that hit the creature right between the eyes. it was accompanied by a loud crash of thunder that made the ground beneath them shake violently.

malfoy, who the creature seemed to have set its sights on, cast a dark purple hex that sliced the creature down the middle, spraying it's blood everywhere. it seemed like the creature had much more blood than what should have belonged in it's body.

there was no blood on him though, because lestrange and nott both cast complex barrier enchantments, attempting to shield malfoy from the animal. 

the split hellhound landed on the ground like it was weightless. it didn't even make a sound.

there was no telling which curse killed it. something like a mist lifted itself from the corpse hovered for a moment, and then plunged itself into the ground beneath them, and a gust of wind blew out from the epicenter.

this was a dark creature, who could not be affected by the simple magic they were using. they sent curses trying to get it to move away, but the time came between life and death. the familiar gust of cold air rushing over her reminded her of the few other times she'd used _avada kedavra_ as a means of killing. 

there was no choice to make. she'd cast it again if it meant saving one of them. 

the moment she was sure the creature was dead, she turned around and retched, dropping to her knees. she didn't know if it was from the dark magic, the stench, or the blood. malfoy's hands were shaking as nott lowered him down and rosier threw up behind a tree. she felt someone cast a spell that cleaned all the blood off of her, but she could barely keep her eyes focused, let alone form a _thank you._

her heartbeat was arrhythmic, her body lethargic, and her head felt like her brain had been torn out and put back in. her soul was writhing inside her, as if it was trying to escape the dark magic she'd locked inside her. 

the killing curse was a sinister curse. it ensured that you'd always remember the feeling of using it.

once she'd collected herself enough, she banished her bloody vomit and turned around and sat, leaning against a tree. 

_don't you dare fucking cry._

it was nowhere near the worst thing she'd seen, but the curse always made her stomach churn.

she was relieved to see that riddle also needed to sit. 

she stared up at the sky, praying her body would oblige her mind. dark magic was malevolent and relentless in it's retaliation. she'd feel better tomorrow, she kept telling herself. she had to remember that it wouldn't always feel like this, or else she'd rather die now that live the rest of her life in this condition. every bad thing she had ever felt was coursing through her synapses and nerve endings, making her feel jerky. 

she was in a cold sweat when there rest of them seemed to have collected themselves in a fragile, tired state.

"you just used the killing curse," malfoy's voice rasped out, but she couldn't tell from which direction. 

confusion clouded her brain, and for a moment, she wondered if she could even hear him. the fog in her mind started to clear.

_lumos._

"it was going to kill you if i hadn't." her words slurred together. 

"you've killed something before." riddle stated like it was fact. 

_please, not now. i can't argue right now._

"no i haven't," she lied. it would have been convincing if they hadn't known themselves the whiplash from using the killing curse the first time. they all knew how the killing curse felt. the first time, you always pass out. the second, most people faint again, but many just fall over. the third is always either increased or slowed heart rate, but the fourth reaction was completely up to chance. to their knowledge, she casted the killing curse at lease three other times.

"yes, you have. that's dark magic edwards, there's always a reaction the first time." malfoy's voice trembled as he made the accusation.

she was silent. "just because i casted it before doesn't mean it hit anything."

it was a weak lie, but she was still to disoriented. a small pinprick in the base of her skull started to throb.

"what did you kill before?"

"i haven't killed anything." she grumbled. she cast another warming charm over her body, but she was barely able to feel a change. she felt cold on the inside, like an icy wind was rattling around her thoracic cage.

he gazed at her. "or... is it who?"

she only stared at him for a moment. "i've never killed another person in my life. don't you dare accuse me of something like that." she lied, and they all knew it. "and by your logic, you've killed something or someone before."

"and you already knew that. you threatened me with it already." she had forgotten, or maybe she just couldn't form proper argument while waiting for her mind and body to recover. she heard faint sounds of incredulity, so apparently riddle had neglected to mention to his friends that she knew about the murders. this night just kept getting better and better for tom. she'd killed someone before, he could tell. "don't pretend to be a martyr. who have you killed?"

_why has everyone been calling me a martyr?_

"no one." she pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to remove the image of the liters of blood splattering all over her, her friends, and the ground beneath them. she could still smell it everywhere around her.

"who have you killed?" he persisted. 

"riddle-" nott tried to interject, but was cut off by sicaria.

"ask me that fucking question again." she pointed her wand at him. he didn't move. "i dare you."

" _why_ have you killed?"

"go to hell, riddle." her voice cracked, and she tasted the metallic blood in the back of her throat. she finally felt well enough to stand, and did so. she cast a diagnostic over herself, ensuring that she had no life threatening or permanent damage from a curse. the past few minutes were a blur, so it's possible that she could have miscast something and her adrenaline took the sensation away. 

once she had ensured that she was well enough, she turned to the closest person to her; malfoy. 

she cast the diagnostic over him. there were slight muscle tremors in his hand which she healed with a simple muscular sedation charm. 

"what was that?"

"a hellhound," riddle said, still staring at the dead animal at their feet. "but i believe it was possessed."

she noticed that adonis had walked closer to her as she did the diagnostics. she started to say the diagnostic and healing spells out loud. he had previously shown he was interested in some aspects of healing, and based on the number of times she felt dark magic around the five of them, they'd need to learn how to heal themselves eventually.

"by what?" malfoy said as his voice steadied.

"a messorem." she said, her voice rasping slightly from the bile still threatening to creep up. she used a spell that forced thomas' heart so stop beating so quickly. she whispered to adonis. "the spell combats arrhythmia and elevated heartbeats. the wand motion is a counterclockwise circle around the heart three times."

"but hellhounds have no soul. i thought messorems prey on beings with souls."

she shook her head. "the goal of a messorem is to guide a soul to the afterlife. it wanted the hellhound to kill one of us."

she quickly healed lestrange, who had a small amount of blood loss from a long scrape up his calf. she managed to heal it without leaving a scar, but he'd need to get a blood replenishing potion. 

privately, she's somewhat happy to see that they all had reactions, regardless of how hard they tried to hide them. after using enough dark magic, the reaction just starts to fade away, so seeing that they still face the backlash made her hope they'd eventually stop. she made her way over to riddle, but the second she casted the diagnostic he stepped away.

he was being belligerent. "i'm fine. leave it."

she did not. 

she casted the diagnostic again and got a short glimpse of it again before he once again stepped back.

she let in a sharp inhale of annoyance, but the scent of the corpse (that seemed to be rotting exceedingly quickly) burned her airway. 

"you have a cut on your arm, and the blood got in it, so unless you want to explain why you have a pathogen from a hellhound to a healer, then let me pull it out."

he stared at her for a moment. 

he reluctantly laid back on the ground as she uses her wand to separate the hellhounds blood from his. he winced slightly as she did so (she _forgot_ to warn him that the sensation stung a bit) and then did a spell to accelerate the cell division of his platelets so that a scab would form faster. he sat up the moment she was finished. 

one of the properties is that the hellhound never ages, which now explained why the creature was now just a skeleton sitting above a pile of rotting meat and blood. the sight was so grotesque that she thought she might puke. still, she used her wand to discreetly siphon a small amount of the blood, so that she could study the magical properties of such a rare animal. 

it put a few questions into her head. what the hell was a hellhound doing on school grounds? and why was there a messorem floating about and inhabiting animals in the forest? 

_think about it tomorrow._ none of them spoke as they walked in tandem back to the castle. she didn't have the energy to be paranoid of anything else in the forest. all she wanted to do was lie down and perhaps have a very hot shower. 

the six of them snuck back into the castle through a small window that led to a court yard on the west side of the castle. they stared at each other for a moment before lestrange broke their silence. 

"i think i should've just gone to bed."


	34. xxxii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> longer chapter than what i usually write, but there's several sections. anyway i hope you like this chapter

20 december 1944

they did not immediately go to bed. 

instead, they returned to the common room, and sicaria was suddenly hit with a wave of sleepiness so potent that she almost fell over. 

she hadn't dreamt anything, and had only realized she'd fallen asleep when she was finally jolted to consciousness.

when she woke up, rosier was shaking her; his wand hanging loosely out of his pocket. sicaria stared up at him, dazed and eyes slightly out of focus. 

"edwards? it's almost three, you should go to bed." he said gently, like he was talking to a child. 

she sat up a little too quickly, looking around at the other four boys, who looked slightly disheveled. riddle's hair was messy, both nott and malfoy were bleeding from the lip, lestrange had a sinister looking grin on his face, and rosier's shirt was untucked and slightly unbuttoned. 

_what's going on?_

she fumbled around for her wand before finally just summoning it to her hand. it was on the floor right next to the spot on the couch where she'd awoken. 

she was confused. how had she slept until three if they left the forest near midnight? why hadn't they immediately woken her? they didn't look like they had also slept?

"what happened?" her voice slurred as she spoke. "why do you all look like that?"

" _confundus._ " it was whispered, and she could not even hear it. her shoulders slumped, and her brain felt warm and mushy. 

"edwards," lestrange said, helping her to her feet. "you're tired, aren't you?"

_who is edwards? oh._

was she tired? she didn't know, but it sounded right. 

_am i tired?_ "yes, i think so."

"then how about you go to bed, yeah?" rosier hooked himself with her other arm

she frowned. "but there's something i have to do. something i needed to do, i think..."

_the dance is already over._

_you already healed them._

_is it something for macusa?_

_or an assignment?_

"you _need_ to go to bed." riddle said, and she looked into his eyes.

 _i do?_ "really?"

"yes. now go." _i like his voice._

rosier and lestrange pulled her, and she let her body go forward with them. she frowned and mumbled to rosier. "your friend is rather abrasive."

it was more of a stage whisper. they all heard her, and malfoy stifled a laugh as a cough.

lestrange's lip quirked up. "is he not your friend?" _is he? i'm not sure._ she shook her head. "what is he to you, then?"

_what is he, to me?_

_we haven't even slept together yet, or else i'd call him a tryst._

she hummed. maybe they were friends. friends who make out. she opened her mouth to say this. 

"edwards, don't answer that," riddle hissed from behind her. she closed her mouth. "ask her another question and i'll cut your tongue out, lestrange."

she giggled in a manner that was very unlike her. "you know i did that once? the lingual vein actually has a large blood supply, and it was very gruesome."

_why did i say that?_

_because it's a funny story._

they gaped at her, and lestrange and rosier stopped in her tracks. she frowned. had she said something wrong?

nott coughed. "you... you cut out someone's tongue."

she nodded vigorously. 

"is that true?" rosier asked.

"i don't think i could lie right now even if i wanted to. brain's all weird." she frowned slightly. 

_why am i thinking so slowly? and why am i talking so much?_

her head started to hurt as she strained herself to try to think normally to no avail.

they all stared at each other, like they were in on something she wasn't.

they started talking amongst themselves too quickly for her to be able to catch. 

"-she'll remember she told us that-"

"-chance it'll fuck up her neurons-"

"-so much meddling in her brain-"

"-confounding and obliviation? what if it-"

she lit up. "confounding affects the speed of neuron firing. obliviation only affects short term or long term memory, so i don't think there's much crossover."

it was an interesting juxtaposition, how her motor functions and though process could be so muddled, but her information recall was still top notch. she smiled serenely in pride of herself.

"so obliviating someone while confound-"

she shrugged. "would probably be fine if it was done by a good enough legilimens. have you confounded me?"

"yes." riddle said without hesitation.

"i suspected so. if i find you've tampered with my memory, i'll never speak to you again."

"well luckily for you, you'll never remember."

she nodded, like she was considering it, though if they decided to obliviate her, she'd not be able to do anything to stop it. "do it correctly, please. i don't want more reasons to be upset with you."

"what does that-"

riddle's wand was at her forehead. 

_kill me._

_where the hell did that come from?_ " _obliviate_."

•••

21 december 1944

when she woke up, all she remembered was falling asleep, and now here she was on her bed. 

her body was aching, likely from the backlash of dark magic, and also from her drinking, which made her headache unusually excruciating. the hangover potion put a dent in it, but didn't completely stop the dull throbbing. she also took an energy potion so that her limbs wouldn't feel like jelly. 

she scourgified her bedsheets as she peeled herself out of the dress that she had apparently not bothered to change out of. she threw herself into the shower, quickly redressed, packed the last of her luggage, and then set off for breakfast. 

on her way down, she passed leonov in the hallway and by _god_ did he look terrible. 

black eye, split lip, bruised and scarred knuckles. they had to have been magical scars though, because these injuries looked like they could've been cured with simple healing spells. as she walked nearer too him, she started to feel the faint ambiance of dark magic over him like a cloud. 

even in all his apparent pain, he managed to catch her eye and shoot her a sinister smile. 

she looked away from him and entered the great hall when it was suddenly very clear.

someone had attacked leonov, not that she felt particularly sorry for him. looking over at the table of boys who were eyeing her with alight apprehension, she suddenly had a very large suspicion as to who attacked him. 

they all looked at her as she sat down and she furrowed her brow. had she made a fool of herself last night? she didn't remember anything after "falling asleep" right after she'd walked through the common room. 

"has something happened?" she asked, looking from face to face as they relaxed instantly, but riddles eyes never stopped looking into hers, like he was searching for something. 

lestrange smiled passed the sugar bowl, knowing that sicaria put it in her coffee. riddle slid the daily prophet away from her the moment the owl dropped it. "no. nothing at all."

_liars._

•••

the hogwarts express was nothing like she expected. 

she had the suspicion that there were undetectable extension charms placed on each of the compartments, because it looked very cozy on the outside, but if felt much roomier on the inside. it didn't last long, because a collection of other students came and sat inside as well. 

it was almost awkward; she'd interrogated almost seventy percent of the room.

the young purebloods talked amongst themselves and she observed them. she sat in the corner of the compartment, riddle on her right side, and stared out at the fifteen people in the compartment. apparently, they'd all be in attendance at the christmas party along with their families. sicaria took interest in analyzing how the boys interacted with the other purebloods. most of the time, she only saw the boys with each other

so many words floated around the room. they listened to and said the word ' _mudblood_ ' without flinching. after an hour or so, the young aristocrats seemed to get bored with talking down on magical creatures, non-purebloods, muggles, and gryffindors. the parkinson and rowle boys were particularly vicious.

_interesting._

lestrange refused to even meet her eye after a particularly crass statement, like he was ashamed of what he was participating in. 

in her humble opinion, she thought she fielded their thinly veiled insults well.

once the original six of them were off the train, adonis turned to her with an apologetic look on her face. "i'm sorry you had to listen to that."

she shook her head and smiled. "i know how the world works, adonis."

she should've felt disappointed. she should have, but she didn't.

that was good. it made it easier to sever herself from them.

they made it to the apparation point in kings cross, where they all linked arms and abraxas whisked them and their luggage away to malfoy manor

•••

" _holy shit._ " sicaria said, looking upon the house. she knew they came from money, but she didn't know it was _this_ kind of money. this was old money rich. this was wealth. the boys chuckled at her reaction, and she wondered if all their houses were similarly as extravagant.

she probably should've refrained from swearing; in front of malfoy's parents, she'd have to be the perfect little aristocrat. instinctually, she stiffened her posture, shifted her weight, and let a docile, polite smile overtake her face. she also knew that the british weren't particularly fond of americans, so she decided to try to force her accent not to be so prominent. 

the house looked to be about four stories high. they apparated inside the iron gates onto a paved road that led up to the front of the manor. several house elves appeared the moment their feet hit the ground and took all of their belongings. they all greeted the boys with some semblance of familiarity, but looked upon her with astonishment and confusion. she looked upon the black and beige house, that had arched windows reminding her of the external architecture of carnegie hall. there were hedges of shrubs that were neatly trimmed and intricately placed on the grounds, and as they stepped into the entrance hall, she was overwhelmed by the ceiling. it was so high that it seemed never-ending, but the huge, stained glass chandelier took up most of the ceiling space.

seven more house elves were standing at attention when they entered. one of them cleared their throats. "the master and mistress of the house." she presented.

mr. and mrs. malfoy came around the corner and stepped slowly down the long staircase.

it was customary that the guests greet the host before the host would acknowledge them. she internally scoffed. 

"mother, father," abraxas said, hiding his resentment enough to feign politeness, but not enough that any of the people in the room missed it. 

"mr. malfoy," the other five of them turned toward the patriarch. the boys tilted their heads down in a bow, but sicaria curtseyed and also nodded. she concealed her scowl. they then turned to mrs. malfoy and did something similar. "mrs. malfoy."

the two then started down the line, mr. malfoy shaking the boy's hands, and mrs. malfoy allowing them to kiss her cheek. 

they finally got down to her. 

mrs. malfoy smiled at her after allowing the two of them to daintily shake hands. "you must be sicaria. i am most ecstatic to finally meet you, dear."

"you as well, mrs. malfoy. your home is beautiful." _always complement the lady of the house by complementing the interior design._

mr. malfoy shook her hand. "ms. edwards." he greeted curtly. 

"it is a pleasure to meet you, mr. malfoy."

"and your parents?" mr. malfoy said bluntly, drawing his chin up, but still staring down at her. 

she gave a dainty, polite smile. what else would she have expected but this exact question.

mrs. malfoy's lip curled slightly. "come now, canopus. our son would not be so foolish as to bring a mudblood into our estate."

abraxas tsked. 

the ease with which they used the slur was jarring, but it did not phase her; she had been expecting just this. sicaria smiled. "quite right you are, mrs. malfoy. i do take pride that my home country values pure magical blood to an agreeable extent."

mrs. malfoy patted her cheek in a way that felt demeaning but comforting at the same time. "of course, dear."

"what do they do for work?" canopus malfoy's voice was booming and demanding. it reverberated and resonated off of the pristine walls of the entrance hall. 

"my father was an investor for a law firm, and my mother was a homemaker." she lied through her teeth without hesitating. nott and lestranges' heads turned to her, and she was lucky that neither of the malfoy's were paying attention to their obvious reactions. 

"was?"

"father!" abraxas shouted in a voice that very closely resembled his fathers.

"no, it is okay. i am in your home, and i'd feel as though i was taking advantage of your hospitality by not answering your questions." _whether the answers were truthful or not._ "my father died of dragon pox six years ago, and my mother took her own life out of grief."

mrs. malfoy clutched her chest and sicaria fought incredibly hard to keep the somber expression on her face.

•••

"drop the bags," malfoy said to the three elves that were carrying their stuff. sicaria transfigured her small bag carrying all of her things into a suitcase. it would look suspicious if she arrived with no belongings. the elves did as they were told without haste. "we'll take them from here. go help out in the kitchen or something."

they had gone up two flights of stairs and were now walking down a long corridor leading to the guest rooms. the portraits mumbled among themselves as the teenagers passed.

"indeed, young master malfoy." the elves disapparated and sicaria internally snorted at the sound of abraxas being referred to as _young master._

she turned away from where the elves stood and jumped back slightly at the sight of her friends gaping at her, lestrange open mouthed. 

her fingers twitched for a second, wondering if she needed her wand.

"who the hell _are_ you?" nott asked, incredulously. 

her brow furrowed. "the hell are you talking about?"

rosier shook his head like he was in disbelief. "you-you're... i don't even have a word for it. i genuinely thought i had gone mad for a moment."

"that was fucking scary." malfoy said.

"that was fucking _terrifying._ " lestrange corrected.

" _oh,_ " she chuckled slightly. they were referring to her performance in front of abraxas' parents. she'd never really liked doing the whole _young pureblood debutante_ routine, but apparently it was rather convincing, judging by the looks on their faces. "i came prepared. were you expecting anything less?"

"christ, edwards. how many personalities do you have?"

she shrugged. "just the one, but i've learned how to adapt to situations."

"you're a believable liar, edwards," riddle said as malfoy guided them down the hallway where their guest rooms were. they turned a corner and came upon a corridor that had eight doors on each side. "did you make that up on the spot?"

she shook her head. "no, it was well rehearsed. i find that the more tragic i make their deaths, the faster people stop asking questions. your parents are quite relentless, abraxas."

"they're impressed with you," malfoy grumbled. "do not be surprised if they start to insinuate that we are... courting."

"am i really so repulsive, malfoy?"

"don't fish for complements, edwards. it might make me start to believe that you care what i think."

she laughed. 

an elf apparated into the hall in front of them. "mistress is requesting that the woman is staying in the corner guest suite." he looked at malfoy as he said it, and pointed to the last room on the left side of the hall. 

malfoy grit his teeth. "alright."

"mistress is saying that if you is going to the city, you is needing to not be late for dinner." sicaria noticed that the elf had a slight russian accent.

"anything else?"

"mistress is telling young master to be behaving properly in the presence of the woman."

sicaria smirked and raised her eyebrow at malfoy, who in turn scowled at her.

"is that all?" malfoy said with faint irritation, and the elf looked back at him with similar indignance. 

"yes, young master malfoy."

"great. bye." the elf apparated away immediately. 

she got so lucky that she didn't have to make up a reason to go back to london; they'd created one for her.

"we're going to london if you'd like to join."

•••

they arrived in some wizarding bar in the center of the city. she didn't drink, neither did they. 

she spent a couple of minutes with them, following them as she listened to them talk in vague terms. it was obvious they were talking about something they didn't want her to hear.

they entered an old. seemingly muggle library in central london. it was empty except for the librarian who greeted them with a reluctant ' _bonjour,_ ' upon their entry. she stood around and looked at the twenty or so shelves as rosier talked to the librarian in hushed french. he seemed to be requesting a specific book. the librarian was adamant that she didn't know anything about what they were requesting, but was as riddle placed a strong imperius curse one her. 

sicaria didn't react, though they watched her for one. 

the librarian hobbled around and pulled a book off of the bottom shelf of a bookcase in the distant corner of the library. she gave the book to tom, and sped back to her desk at the front of the library, sitting stiff and unmoving. it was clear that they came to this library with the specific intention of getting this text. it was leather bound, and the yellowed pages looked like they'd disintegrate if breathed on too hard. it felt dark.

sicaria settled herself in one of the ancient chairs on the opposite side of the library, and a puff of dust clouded her as she sat down. the boys were at a table 20 feet away, all huddled over the book the librarian hade given them. she reminded herself that she was not allowed to feel sad.

every so often, they shot her an occasional glance, presumably to ensure that she wasn't eavesdropping. _whatever,_ she thought. _whatever they're doing isn't my business._

she couldn't fight the disappointment though. just twelve hours ago, they watched her cast a killing curse and accused her of murder, but seemingly couldn't fathom letting her have a look at whatever they were reading.

she took a glance down at her watch every few moments. based on the map of london that was painted on the back wall of the library, it would take her about ten minutes to walk to the bar vota had invited her to. she thought about leaving now, but she'd be early, and it would probably look like she was throwing a fit. 

she also couldn't leave until they'd come up with a system to get back to the manor; she couldn't apparate back into the wards without abraxas.

she stared out the window, trying to imagine what vota would even be like outside of a work environment. she was cold, domineering woman, and there was no version of the meeting that sicaria could imagine that didn't end with vota at least mentioning the case.

she even debated just not showing up. she ran over the idea with dumbledore, and he had been the one to say that there was nothing to lose from it.

sicaria continued to gaze out the window, looking out at the muggles who walked past, almost as if the building didn't exist. sicaria only then became aware of a fading notice-me-not that was likely cast over this building many decades ago. she thought this was a muggle building, but perhaps it had preserved some wizarding texts. 

the muggles looked grim. the city of london looked ravaged by war; even if the buildings were not torn down, the sky was still grey and the people were-

"edwards?"

her head snapped away from the window and over to the five boys who were looking at her. the sound of riddle calling her pulled her from her melancholic revere. 

"yes?"

he beckoned her. "come take a look at this, will you?"

she stood slowly, noticing their collective odd demeanor. riddle was _asking_ her to do something, rather than just demanding it of her. 

she made her way over to the table, and he slid the book across the table to her, open to a specific page. she squinted as she looked at it. 

"can you translate it?" adonis asked, staring at the side of her face as she looked at the texts on the wooden table. 

_oh merlin, what have you gotten yourselves into?_

she internally debated even continuing to read it, because the language was so sanguinary that she couldn't help but wince. 

it was dark, _dark_ magic written in this book.

she wanted to set it on fire.

they continued to look at her expectantly as she weighed the pro's and con's. whatever they'd done to get to this point in this ritual was already dark enough, and to stop them now would make waste of whatever other danger they'd previously placed themselves in. 

but at the same time, it was dangerous. the levels of dark magic in the text was so potent that it practically oozed out of the pages. it would likely hurt one of them; take revenge on one of its practitionters because dark magic was just vindictive. 

nonetheless, she wasn't supposed to care. she needed to distance herself from them, and that started with not caring that they were putting their souls through a life-threatening amount of stress by using magic like this. 

it was this flawed logic train that led her to her conclusion.

she read for a few more seconds and nodded. "not exactly but i can paraphrase."

she pointed to the two diagrams in the left and right corner. "those are the signets of procyon and the pleiades. the star systems. it only says that those stars are of significance." nott conjured a scroll and wrote down the basics of what she said. 

she moved down to the first jumble of text, written in some sort of ancient latin/medieval french mix. "where the dead still bleed will the pleiades seek knowledge. um," she waited, trying to figure out any possible translation for this next series of words. "before the pleiades find where the dead still bleed, they must immolate the final remains of the dead blood."

that made _no sense._

translating old languages was a hard enough feat on it's own, especially because many old words did not have modern counterparts, but it was especially difficult when the passages were flickering between languages. 

"the next part is saying that danger lies ahead and one must continue with the spirit of the star vega." she said, mumbling a little quieter than she meant to. she explained, "the star of vega in ancient magic is supposed to be a protector from witchcraft."

"we all take astronomy, edwards. we know." she didn't respond to nott.

"the last part," she said gesturing to the entire bottom half of the page. "is a cipher. it lists two spells and several numbers."

she wrote down the incantations and the numbers. _delens sanguis. fiendfyre_. the numbers looked to sicaria like three sets of coordinates. 

"the spells are to be used in a ritual, but it says the pleiades should know what they have to do if they have come this far."

she looked up at the five of them, hoping they could see the pleas in her eyes. the magic was so dark that her fingers felt like they were on fire as she wrote down the incantations listed in the book. she didn't say anything. 

"thank you," riddle said. it sounded reluctant, but genuine.

he slid the book from her, and lestrange took the paper with the spells and coordinates. before they could completely turn their attention away from her, she spoke. she didn't want to be in here anymore, not when they were plotting dark magic rituals.

"can i go?" she said, and cringed because it sounded like she was asking their permission to leave. "can we meet back up somewhere later to get back to your house?"

they appraised her for a second. one excruciatingly long second. 

"yeah sure. do you know where westminster bridge is?" malfoy said after riddle nodded. "we could meet there around three."

she nodded once again, and headed off toward the door. unfortunately, she didn't quite make it there before lestrange called out to her.

"where are you off to?"

"i'm having a drink with an... acquaintance." she glanced down at her watch again.

rosier raised an eyebrow. "ah so you're going on a date?"

"if i were going on a date, i'd say that."

"no you wouldn't." malfoy challenged.

"yeah you're right, i wouldn't. wouldn't be any of your business, would it?" she conceded, sounding a little bit more bitter than she meant to.

she slipped out of the door, and down the street a few feet before she could sense at least on of them following her. 

_oh for christs sake?_

were they not busy enough with their dark magic rituals?

she took a right turn down an alleyway, deviating from her course. she followed it to another right turn, where she met a dead end. she turned around, and only caught a glimpse of two of them following her. she cocked her head to the side and scowled. as she apparated away. 

•••

she and vota talked. 

well really, _vota_ talked.

it had been exactly what sicaria had knew it was going to be; a recruitment effort. vota wanted a protégé. the woman was making a half assed attempt to pay sicaria compliments that only related to work. she referenced her success rate with interrogation, both legal and undisclosed, and applauded her dueling talents. 

it was clear to sicaria that vota had gone through her old case files. she made several allusions to sicaria being perfectly primed for a special operations auror. 

a fate worse than death.

she even went through the motions to praise her late parents, and claim that she grieved heavily for them. vota was extremely touchy outside of work, taking the effort to grasp sicaria's hand and pat her on the shoulder. the mock sorrow was insulting, not because sicaria cared whether vota grieved for her parents, but because she expected that sicaria wouldn't be able to see through that overused bullshit tactic.

how easy would it be to break her glass and shove the shards into her heart?

_"-talented-"_

_"-ability-"_

_"-valuable-"_

_"-guide-"_

_"-mentor-"_

_"-permanent asset-"_

that phrase seemed to jerk sicaria out of her half-listening daze. of course, they expected that even once she wasn't forced to work for them anymore

if they didn't let her go once the contract was void, it would be a violation of the unbreakable vow, and the caster would die. lucky for sicaria, the caster of that vow was not someone that the department of magical law enforcement could afford to lose, especially not at this stage in the war. they needed to get her to willingly sign another contract before they lost the most valuable covert asset they'd gained in the latter years of the war.

throughout the entire one-sided conversation, sicaria may have spoken twenty words along with a series of well placed nods and head shakes. 

sicaria went through the motions of pretending the manipulations worked on her. if she could get on vota's good side, she may have a bit more authority when it came to her assignments, and that surely couldn't hurt. 

all of this misleading intent and dodging manipulation was starting to wear on sicaria. 

she had never been so tired. 

the only people she cared about didn't trust her, not that she'd ever given them a reason to. she couldn't even gather enough anger to be mad about them once again spying on her

looking at the parts of the city of london didn't help. everything was grey and melancholic. the city looked war-torn, but then around the corner, it was just as lively as always. some parts of the city could pretend there was no war. the dichotomy reminded her of new york. 

of home.

sicaria was so tired.

•••

she arrived at the westminster bridge long before they arrived. she sat on a bench on the west side, watching the people who passed. couples, families, and groups of friends, who managed to look happy even as they walked toward the east side of the city, which was undeniably war-torn. those who didn't look happy, still had someone with them, to share the burden of their grief as they mourned the city and the loved ones who had been lost in the war. she wondered what it would feel like to share her problems with someone. 

she carried it alone. 

she was so tired.

_no i'm not. i'm fine, and i'm angry._

"are there any aspects of my personal life that are off limits? or do you feel you're entitled to every detail even when it doesn't affect you?" she uncrossed her legs and stood from the spot on the bench. her voice was low and directed at all five of them who coyly approached her from the east side of the bridge.

"edwards-"

"i don't want to hear it. this happens so often, i feel like we know the routine. can we just skip to the part where we act like all is fine?"

they eyed her and exchanged glances before they all together walked down toward a magical spot in the city that they could apparate from.

nott grasped her arm gently to slow her down. he pulled her behind the rest of the group, as if this was intended to be a private conversation. "are you alright?"

"why wouldn't i be?"

he pushed his hair back from his face. "you don't sound angry, you sound... passive, almost." she knew what he was going to say. _sad._

"how unfortunate. i thought i had you fooled."

"be serious with me, edwards."

"what do you want me to say, thomas?" she said defeatedly. "the only semblance of companionship i have comes with the side effect of constantly having to look over my shoulder for deception. i can't be angry at you for everything you've done, it's draining. i don't trust you, you don't trust me. it's tiring."

he walked with her contemplatively. "i do not think that was the whole truth."

it wasn't. it never will be.

"which part?" she asked mirthlessly, but not giving him time to respond. "i never claimed to be innocent. i'm a hypocrite, i know, but there's nothing i can do."

he was silent for a moment. they reached the end of the bridge. "i hope your mistrust in us does not lead you to the idea that we do not care for your wellbeing."

she didn't respond. 

he looked over at her. "we do care about you, sicaria, i swear it. things are just very... complicated."

she didn't care. 

"it's okay." she said, truthfully. it didn't matter. "it won't matter in the long run."

she didn't mean to say that. 

"what are your plans after graduation?" he measured his question carefully and sicaria stared at the back of riddles head.

her voice shook as she spoke. "i think if i answer that, it'll come off as unsatisfactory and abrasive."

_occlude, occlude, occlude._

"entertain me anyway."

"if you're asking if you'll hear from me again after graduation..." she said, and he nodded, encouraging her to continue. "you won't."

"may i ask why?"

"i'll tell you some other day," there was a silence between them. maybe if she picked a fight, her adrenaline would take over and steer her back to her normal self. "i'm sure you'll run off and tell them what i told you, won't you?"

"do you not want me to?" in front of them, lestrange and malfoy were laughing at something rosier said.

"it doesn't matter if i don't, you'll do it anyway." she twisted the ring around her finger.

she tried to keep walking, but he held her arm and stopped. he stood in front of her and looked down into her eyes as he spoke. "you are allowed to have an opinion of how you wish to be treated, sicaria."

"but what is the point? tell them every last detail. i hope me giving you my permission has eased your conscience."

"of course it doesn't help my conscience. do you have any idea how guilty i-"

"enough, thomas," she said, defeated. "i don't need a consolation, alright? i do not, never _have_ , and never _will_ expect you to all treat me the same as you do to each other. i'm not one of you. you're brothers, and i both respect and admire the love you have for each other. you don't have to make my friendship more than it is just because you think it will appease me." they had matching tattoo's for christs sake. she lied when she said she admired them; all she felt was envy.

"you misjudge." he said plainly. the other four seemed to finally notice their absence, and they stood about fifty feet away, staring at the two conversing.

sicaria wished nott would just drop it. she shouldn't have instigated, and she shouldn't have continued this conversation.

"you've known me for three months. you'll know me for five more. why waste energy trying to fix something that will cease to exist in may?"

"do you care about us?"

she was supposed to say no.

"of course i do." she couldn't hurt him, and even if she tried, he'd know she was lying.

"then why do you try so hard to convince yourself that your friendship is worth less?"

she was dumbstruck, but recovered quickly.

"you trust each other, you don't trust me. i don't resent you for it, nor do i expect you to trust me. i'm perfectly happy with our current friendship."

"why?"

"i don't need, nor did i ask for anything more."

"you deserve good things." you deserve better than what we give you.

"do i?" she mumbled. she hadn't meant to say that.

"what does _that_ mean?"

"i don't with to discuss this any further." she turned to walk forward, but he sidestepped in front of her.

"sicaria-"

"thomas." she said with an air of finality. the wind whistled around them.

"why have you never brought this up before?"

"there was no reason to, it would lead us nowhere and i wasn't that bothered by it."

"you must address your issues with us, sicaria. if there's a problem with us, i'd like to know about it."

why? that would just be a miserable guilt trip for everyone. "not all problems have solutions."

he knew that there was no response to that. 

he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. she reveled in it for a moment. sicaria couldn't remember the last time someone hugged her like they actually cared. she shouldn't have indulged, she should have pushed him away, but she didn't. she couldn't. "i care very, very much, alright? you don't want an apology, but i'm going to say that i'm sorry anyway. it won't always be like this." he pulled back.

she hoped he was lying. 

her mistrust was the only thing stopping her from being devastatingly attached to them. if they trusted her, and she allowed herself to be entirely her with them, then her departure in may would be heartbreaking, and she didn't think she could bear it. 

her first real friends. 

her only friends. 

so fucking pathetic.

she needed distance or things would turn ugly. perhaps not physical distance, then they'd chase her, but if she was just detached enough, they'd have the vague feeling that something was off, but they would be entirely unable to pinpoint it, nor accuse her of anything.

she was flying too close to the sun. how long would it be before her wings melted?

she'd let herself get a taste of real companionship, and she needed to cut it off now, before it became something she couldn't control. sicaria couldn't afford to be led by her emotions. she had to be rational, and getting attached to people she'd never see again was the farthest thing from it. 

•••

dinner with the malfoy's was awful, not that any of them seemed to notice. 

they were led to the dining room by an old female elf who knocked on each of their doors after they'd returned from london. the dining room had two fireplaces, green wooden floors, and another crystal chandelier that gave the room a shimmering glow. they sat at a long wooden table, with abraxas and mr. malfoy on the ends. mrs. malfoy sat at her husbands left side, and sicaria sat in the seat next to her. she was sandwiched between the matriarch and lestrange, with riddle sitting across from her.

sicaria had to tap back into her pureblood social cues, remembering not to begin eating until mr. malfoy did, and trying to recall which cutlery to use with each course. 

she hated british cuisine with a passion, but ate it anyway without complaint. she couldn't wait to be back in new york in a few days where she could eat something without wondering if it was made of pig's blood.

naturally, they had plenty of questions about sicaria, seeing as she was a new presence in their son's life. they asked about her grades, about new york city, and about her post-graduation plans. oh, and of course her marital status. she'd forgotten how young british purebloods married off their children in hopes of quickly producing an heir.

mr. malfoy was discussing some sort of magical corporation with nott and riddle, seemingly trying to recruit riddle. the way that both of the malfoy's fawned over tom was reminiscent of how he was able to deceive all of the teachers at hogwarts. 

if tom was nothing else, he was a charmer. it seemed to come naturally to him, knowing just how to read people and tell them the things they wanted to hear. even without legilimency, he was very effective in how he interacted with people, and his words always came out in smooth eloquence. mrs. malfoy winked at sicaria when she noticed her staring

mrs. malfoy spent a majority of the time talking to sicaria. she asked about sicaria's future career prospects, and she told her that she planned on opening a private hospital. the woman smile at her aspirations, despite being generally unpleasant, and called her 'an ambitious one'. she asked sicaria's opinions on the muggle war and the wizarding war, and sicaria took a page out of riddle's book, learning how to fill sentences with words that make her sound well informed, but actually mean nothing at all. it was a tactic designed to make mrs. malfoy believe whatever she wanted about sicaria's views, but the older woman seemed pleased with her. 

mrs. malfoy was in the middle of a tirade about one of the businesses in diagon alley not allowing her to buy shares of stock if they weren't in canopus' name when the elves carried in the next course of food. 

one of the elves was carrying a large serving dish of a food she could not see, but she saw the neatly wrapped bandages around the elves hands. his hands were shaking as he carried the dish, which looked like it probably weighed more than his body. his bandages were stained with blood and seemed to be bleeding profusely. 

she wondered why the elf hadn't just levitated the food, but quickly realized that it was likely a punishment for whatever the elf had done to deserve bleeding hands.

discreetly, not taking her eyes off of mrs. malfoy talking, she flicked her fingers wandlessly in the direction of the struggling elf, casting a small lightening charm. it wasn't much, but it would at least it would help him to struggle a bit less. she almost panicked when the elf stared directly at her, but she remembered that elves were good at identifying magical signatures. it started to tear up, but sicaria prayed it wouldn't cry, because if his master's asked him why he was crying, he'd be obligated to tell the truth. 

"bailey!" mrs. malfoy's voice turned so quickly from dainty and light to commanding that it made sicaria flinch slightly. "you're bleeding in front of our guests. get out of here, and do not come back until you look like less of an embarrassment."

the command confused sicaria slightly and as the elf set down the dish and hurried out of the room. sicaria wondered for a moment if that was mrs. malfoy's version of trying to give the elf a break.

•••

  
sicaria took advantage of the huge bathroom in the suite mrs. malfoy requested that she have. the whole room was decorated in 18th century furniture. the bathroom had both a shower, a large bathtub with stained glass designs. it was all decorated in shades of brown, green, and gold. 

there was also a bay window in the bathroom, charmed so that she could look out into the grounds and trees, but no one on the grounds could see her. not that anyone was out on the grounds, it was starting to get late.

it was luxurious. sicaria felt like a princess. it was almost enough to make her forget how she was supposed to be spying on these people.

she soaked in the bathwater for nearly an hour. it seemed that the tub had a charm on it that maintained the heat.

she got out once her skin felt sufficiently raw, she stepped out of the bath and banished the water. she stood in front of the mirror (which took up half of the wall) and all she could think about was how badly she needed to get high. 

she sighed, and reminded herself that it was only a couple more days until she'd be in her apartment, and she could use as much as she wanted to for that entire time. she had no responsibilities over that portion of the break, and she decided that she'd definitely take advantage of it. for a moment, she scowled at the though of her _craving_ the drug, because that would force her to admit that it was an addiction, right?

wrong. 

she could control herself. she didn't need it. she'd indulge at the right time.

instead of moping, she put on a black nightgown and pulled out some of the files macusa wanted her to memorize. they now gave her much more leeway for how she wanted to run her operations, but there were still certain specifics they wanted her to maintain. 

she read over the file of information about the innerworkings of grindelwald's operation that had been given to them by a classified spy. the information wasn't great, but there were bits and pieces of useful information. the spy claimed that they could not give anything more specific because of some kind of magic that all of the acolytes had placed upon them, that made it impossible for them to betray certain information.

magical analytics department was supposed to run tests on him the following day to try to figure out how to break the spell, but he mysteriously disappeared from his house that very evening. his wife, kids, and dog were all dead in the house.

worst part is, they don't know if he'd killed them and run off with the allegiance, or if grindelwald had somehow become aware of his betrayal. either way, they'd never know, because he hadn't been seen in several months. 

a knock came at the door, and she transfigured the file into the first book she could think of. "edwards?"

it was lestrange's voice. "yeah?" she called.

"er, can we come in?"

she tucked her wand behind her ear. "sure."

she hadn't realized he said ' _we_ ' and was slightly surprised when all five of them filed into her room.

they were dressed in traveling clothes and cloaks. it almost reminded her of how the auror squads walked around the department floor before going out on a mission.

"we're going out to run an errand," nott said, standing beside riddle who's eyes trailed around the room. "we'll be back soon."

she barely looked up and quirked an eyebrow. she fought back the urge to say _in the middle of the night?_ but being lied to was something she needed right now. "alright," she said, swallowing any other incendiary retorts she could've come up with. they hadn't bothered to make up a lie; but whether that was out of trust or the fact that she wouldn't believe a word of what they said was unknown. she wondered why they even told her that they were leaving, unless they _wanted_ her to ask where they were going. 

there was an awkward silence where they stood around for a moment before slowly starting to exit her room. she wondered why they'd come in just to say one sentence. 

she pressed her lips tightly to avoid saying ' _be careful_ ' _._ she heard the _crack_ of apparition from right outside her door.

she sighed and glanced at the clock, wishing she had told them to be careful, or at least given them a few healing spells, because whatever it was they were going to do was dangerous. all that dark magic in the book, and those spells she'd translated for them clearly were not for recreational use. 

she realized that her melancholic mood was likely due to the downfall of euphoria. she hadn't used in quite a while, and though the potion got her through withdrawal without any physical effects, it was still entirely likely that it did nothing to improve her mood. 

no matter. she'd just fake it.

waving her wand to dim the lights, she laid down, hoping that they'd be fine. 

_they'll be fine. they're competent. they're talented._

_they'll be fine._

she wasn't supposed to care whether or not they'd be fine. 

she did. 

unfortunately for her, she cared very deeply about them.


	35. xxxiii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sigh, this scene was very complicated to write (not only because of the medical stuff, but because i had to explain their f e e l i n g s)
> 
> anyway, enjoy
> 
> also, smut coming very, very soon.

22 december 1944  
tw: graphic depictions of gruesome injuries and blood

it was just past midnight when sicaria was hastily awoken from her slumber. 

a loud _crack_ made her shoot up out of the bed, and she heard frantic cries coming from the center of the room. she summoned her wand and her heart was pounding from the adrenaline. 

" _lumos_ ," she had to squint her eyes to adjust the light. 

she released a shuddering breath when she realized that it was just a house elf.

it was the same one that had the bloody bandages during dinner. it seemed to be trying to speak but was overcome with hyperventilation and anxious sobs. sicaria's heartrate peaked again. "miss edwards is needing to wake up and coming with bailey! mister rosier is hurt and bailey thinking miss edwards is helping him!"

"what?" sicaria said in her sleepy daze, shooting from her bed. the elf ran to her side and grabbed her hand, yanking sicaria toward the door with a force that shouldn't be able to come from such a small being.

oh god. 

oh _god._

_i should've given them the spells._

"miss edwards must hurry! miss edwards is grabbing baileys hand now." the elf grabbed her hand and before she could even respond, they apparated onto the edge of the grounds in the moonlight. malfoy was sitting on the grass, clutching his leg, lestrange standing over riddle and nott who were huddled over rosier on the ground.

"bailey i asked you to get jerry, not sicaria!" malfoy hissed. 

"bailey is trying to help! bailey knows jerry cannot save mister rosier!"

their voices barely registered. all she could focus on was rosier's body, writhing on the ground. his eyes were rolled back in his head and both nott and riddle were rapidly casting over his body. he had a deep chunk of his shoulder taken out, which was bleeding profusely on the ground. at the end of that same arm, it looked like starting at his fingertips, the veins in his hands were starting to turn black. he was screaming so hard that she swore he must have been damaging his vocal chords.

" _oh my god_ ," she clutched her hand to her heart at the sight. 

she didn't spare a glance at the other four, all she could think about was how badly she had to save him. 

or else she'd never forgive herself. 

_calm down,_ she thought. _you can't help him if you aren't calm._

she moved to him quickly and dropped to her knees as she fought to slow herself down. 

_occlude, occlude, occlude._

she waved her wand over his body and muttered to herself, pulling up a diagnostic. she also cast a stabilizing charm on him to counteract the convulsing he was doing on the ground. his body stilled and she took a deep breath.

he had lost 15% of his blood volume. his body temperature was six degrees below normal. his respiration rate was low, but his heartrate seemed normal.

"blood replenishing potion." sicaria said, barely able to think over the sound of the elf's theatrics. "dittany." 

adonis had ceased screaming, but continued to let out anguished groans and whimpers. his skin was pale, and he was cold and clammy to the touch. she didn't warn him before she cast a sanitation charm over the gash in his shoulder (it burned like hell); she doubted he was lucid enough to understand her caution anyway. he let out a sharp groan as she did so. 

now that she'd ensured he could still feel, she put a faint analgesic on his shoulder; weak enough that he'd know if something was wrong, but strong enough that he wouldn't be in constant agony.

"the manor is not having any!" the elf did, and it took all of sicaria's willpower not to send a silencing spell at her. the hysteria was breaking her concentration, and if she lost control, she'd panic.

"then go to my room and get the black bag i left on the chaise." sicaria put a warming charm on him. " _evanesco._ " she banished his shirt and saw the full extent of the damage.

the elf apparated away, still fighting through tears. she didn't know the elf had liked adonis that much, but perhaps the gruesome state of his body.

" _god,_ " she said, as she continued to move her wand over his body. the black creeping up the veins of his arm had reached his wrist, and his fingers were twitching spasmodically. she looked up for a split second, and saw the dagger buried in the outside of abraxas' left thigh. his hand was gripping it, and his face looked strained. "don't pull it out!" she yelled. 

it startled him, and he grimaced but did as she said.

"what was he hit with?" no one spoke for a moment. "i don't care what you were doing, i don't want to know, but tell me what hit him or i'll apparate him to a hospital myself."

riddle spoke while he was hunched over another dagger lying in the grass. he was muttering incantations under his breath, trying to figure out the enchantment was. she assumed that the item was what caused the curse. "he touched a cursed artifact. we don't know what the enchantment was."

alright, that was a start. she first worked on figuring out how to fix the life threatening damage to his body before she could start on canceling the curse. " _afflictio legilimens,_ " she said pointing her wand right at rosier's head. the spell allowed her to feel a diluted version of what he felt, since he didn't have the capacity to tell her himself. 

the elf apparated back, and sicaria immediately summoned the bag from the elf. she stuck her wand into the opening, and pulled out several vials of blood replenishing potion. she immediately poured one down his throat, watching as the levels rose on the diagnostic. she levitated one to abraxas. "drink this. if you start to feel faint, take another one." she also pulled out a book of extravagant dark curses and their counters. she tossed it out into the ground. it opened to the exact page she needed. _blood curses._

_curses that travel through blood act as viral pathogens that replicate rapidly or slowly depending on the intent of the caster. it multiplies the quantity of contaminated blood through proximity, so as long as there is cursed blood in the body, it will continue to spread._

_contaminated blood_ cannot _be saved. once blood has been cursed, it must be excreted from the body if the wizard wishes to continue life._

_to remove contaminated plasma..._

she let her eyes scan over the procedure as fast as she possibly could. she determined that she needed to work on the curse, but if he was going to lose more blood from his arm, she'd need to stop the shoulder from bleeding. she couldn't risk him having two open wounds. 

she hesitated only for a second, wondering if there was an option she missed, but she didn't have time to perfect a procedure like this, especially in an emergency situation. he'd have a scar on his shoulder, and it would be prominent, but he'd be alive. she looked at the small snake tattoo on his upper arm. it moved, slithering nearer to his elbow, away from the wound.

"i need help, if one of you is uninjured," she said as she mumbled _citra ustionem finiuntur_ under her breath and watched the flesh of his shoulder cauterize itself. he groaned and attempted to roll over before she forced him to stay put as she put drops of dittany into the wound. it made a slight hissing noise as the skin slowly started to pull itself taut over the gash. everyone around her moved to her aid. "don't you dare!" she hissed at malfoy for the second time tonight, who seemed to be attempting to crawl to help. she assumed that the elf (who was pacing around, mumbling to herself) had put a tourniquet around his upper thigh. she also eyed nott, who was limping toward her. she commanded him to sit so that he didn't damage his broken leg any further. riddle and lestrange seemed to be healthy enough upon quick inspection, though they both had bruises and small lacerations.

"fuck, i feel weird," rosier said groggily from the ground. she almost cried; he was lucid. his voice startled her, making her feel a rush of relief that came much too early. "sicaria, i don't feel very good. i think i'm-"

"i know, shhh," she hushed him. healing procedures never went well if the patient wasn't calm or sedated. it was also notoriously bad when patients resigned to death, especially since sicaria was still fairly confident they'd be able to save him. "you're going to be fine, okay? try not to talk unless something feels very wrong, alright?"

she picked up the final four vials of blood replenishing potion they had and turned to lestrange. "do you see that blue line?" she said, pointing to the diagnostic still cast over his body. he nodded, looking pale. "it changes colors if his blood volume gets too low. if it turns red, that means he's going into hemorrhagic shock, and you'll need to give him another vial." once she was convinced he understood, she sighed. "you'll also need to make sure he remains conscious, even if you have to _rennervate_ him. _do not let him pass out._ "

"what are you going to do?" lestrange asked as his voice wavered greatly, and she shook her head. she couldn't look up at him; he was crying, and if she saw that, then the dam would burst, and she'd lose all her concentration. rosier was trying to sit up to look down at his limb, where the curse had reached the middle of his forearm. it was particularly gruesome to look at; like there was ink running through his veins where there should have been blood. because of the spell she placed on him (to enable her to have an idea of what he was feeling) she knew that there was a faint stinging, but he couldn't move the arm at all. 

"it'll freak him out and i want him to be calm." she turned to riddle. "have you ever used a wound-closing spell?"

"yes," he said, and she saw the signs of stress etched on his face. his eyes looked almost wary, but his face was still as neutral as always.

" _protego_ " she casted it several times, the first one isolating the arm that had touched the curse, then around his heart (he gave a shudder and a deep inhale) and a final one around his brain. " _surdus._ " she casted, so that he wouldn't be able to hear what she was about to tell riddle. 

she turned to him. "i'm going to sever open the veins in his arm so all of the curse can exit. you have to close the wounds once all the cursed blood is out. use the spell _ipsi adherebis consuo_."

" _ipsi adherebis consuo,_ " he repeated. "and i assume you'll be doing something?"

"i'm going to slow his heart rate to raise his systolic pressure so that it has a harder chance of making it to his heart." her voice wavered as she spoke next. "i'm going to deafen myself too, because if i loose concentration there's a chance i could accidently send him into cardiac arrest. as soon as you close it, you'll need to disarm me so i don't cause an aortic rupture."

she looked between the two of them. "understand? i won't be able to answer anything while i'm dealing with his heart, so anything you need to ask has to happen now."

"are you..." nott started from a few feet away. "is it going to hurt you? the heart thing... you're making it seem like something bad is going to happen."

"i'll be fine," she said simply. it didn't matter how much pain it was going to cause her, she'd do it several times over to help him. "ready?"

lestrange and riddle nodded and she lifted the deafening spell on adonis. she then added a weak _confundus_ charm to sedate him, only enough that he wouldn't be able to panic.

she looked into adonis' eyes. "we're going to take the curse out of your body, okay? it's going to feel weird, but just try to stay calm, and everything will be fine."

his head lulled over on the ground and his voice slurred slightly when he responded. "alright then," he chuckled. "if i don't... if i di-"

"no," riddle said, only a second before she was going to say the same thing. "shut up. you're going to be fine."

adonis chuckled slightly, mumbling something about riddle being a but didn't say anything more.

"i'm going to start now, adonis, look at the sky." she said. " _diffindo._ "

she cast the spell, making long, vertical slits in his forearm. black blood spilled out of his radial and ulnar arteries in time with his heart beats. he spluttered a bit, but it didn't seem like he was in pain. 

she cast the severing charm again, cutting along the metacarpal veins in his palm as the blood started to rush down his fingertips. the grass on the ground withered away as the blood seeped into the soil, and a foul scent started to protrude from it. 

" _surdus,_ " she cast over herself, and suddenly, the whole world was so silent that it felt like she'd died. she also cancelled the enchantment that allowed her to know what adonis was feeling.

the effect took her by surprise. everything was so blank. she could see the blades of grass moving and the rise and fall of adonis' chest, but couldn't hear the wind rustle or his respirations. 

she refocused on her task. sicaria took a deep breath, steeling herself in concentration. she couldn't even hear herself talk as she said the incantation to slow his heart beat. she moved her hand in a slow circle over his chest.

" _lenta cordis pulsatio,_ " his chest spasmed. she didn't look at his face. 

_occlude, occlude, occlude._

she then moved forward slightly and tapped her wand directly over his heart, saying an internal affirmation that this would work, and he'd be fine. 

she closed her eyes and focused all her senses on the spell. she channeled all her magic into the spell and felt her power rush down her arm and into her wand.

" _auget systoles iactabantur_ ," she immediately groaned as it felt like her own heart was being squeezed out of her ribcage. her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and for a second her hands sook before she regained control of herself. 

_stay calm. count._

she took a deep breath as she focused on keeping her wand in the center of his heart and ensuring that she wasn't applying too much pressure to his heart as she held the spell. 

everything needed to be evenly measured out.

she felt movement around her, but willed herself to keep her eyes closed and ignore it.

_nothing is wrong. everything is fine. it's working._

it was easy to convince herself of this when she couldn't see or hear anything. 

all she could focus on was feeling the beat of his heart through her wand and adding pressure as needed.

 _what if this isn't working?_ she couldn't stop thinking. she felt like she was doing nothing; he could be bleeding out beneath her, and she'd be none the wiser. 

she forced herself to keep calm and keep her eyes closed. _focus._

_this isn't working._

she needed to focus and distract herself at the same time. 

_one._

_two._

_three._

she started counting his heartbeats. 

_eighteen._

_nineteen._

_twenty._

she wondered how many minutes had passed and if most of the blood had run its course yet. 

_thirty seven._

_thirty eight._

_thirty nine._

_was that enough blood replenishing potion? what if he started hemorrhaging and there was none left?_

_fifty nine._

_sixty._

_sixty one._

his chest spasmed and shifted her wand slightly. she pressed her eyes shut tighter, fighting her natural instinct to keep them open. she took a deep breath as she felt the sensation of her own heart beating so hard that she though her ribcage must be shaking. 

_occlude._

_one hundred and five._

_one hundred and six._

_one hund-_

her eyes snapped open as she felt her wand fly out of her hand. she took in a deep breath and pressed a hand to her heart as she felt it slowly return to normal. she blinked several times and then snapped her head over to his arm, where she saw the cuts sutured together. the arm was extremely pale and probably deoxygenated, but it was devoid of black. 

she looked up at the diagnostic and saw that the line indicating his blood level was purple, indicating that he was below average, but not to an unsafe level. lestrange had laid back on the ground, likely basking in the cool, dewy grass.

the world suddenly erupted back into sound, and she turned around to see riddle's wand pointed at her, cancelling the deafening spell. his other hand held her wand, which he extended to her. she took it, relishing in the feeling of the power surge it gave her. 

she moved very slowly, but very deliberately.

" _malum deprehendere cardiascere._ " the spell was designed to identify any underlying issues specific to the heart. it would tell her if any of the curse had reached it, and it would tell her if the spell she'd cast had left any damage. she looked over it twice, seeing only slight hypertension, which was rapidly fading. she looked up at the other diagnostic, which showed faint signs of circulatory stress and a slowed respiration rate, but his body would adapt to that on it's own. his neurons were firing at a normal pace, which meant the most vital aspects of his body were in tact.

she let out a shuddering exhale as several tears finally fell from her eyes. 

the curse was gone. she hadn't harmed his heart.

if she was standing, she certainly would've lost her balance as the rush of emotions sent a tsunami over her body.

it wasn't like this was the worst she'd seen a dark curse do. in fact, this didn't even break the top ten. this wasn't the first time she'd saved a life either. she just wasn't used to caring about the person she was trying to save. she didn't realize how much harder it would be

"don't cry, edw-" rosier started, frowning. he tried to raise himself to a sitting position. she gently pushed him back down with a slightly shaking hand. his voice was still very weak, and his body was weaker. he needed to rest, not to comfort her.

"don't get up." she commanded in a wavering voice. she wiped her face. the five boys looked at her with rapt attention and slight wariness; such a strange burst of emotion and vulnerability from her was odd. it made adonis feel guilty. sicaria was almost embarrassed by it and tried to cover it quickly, even as the tears continued to fall. "how do you feel?"

riddle stared at the side of her face as she listened to rosier describe what he was feeling. he studied her as she adjusted and strengthened the sutures he'd made on rosier's arm. he watched as she apologized that the scar on his shoulder would be so prominent, due to the not insignificant amount of tissue he'd lost. 

he watched her unwaveringly, but no thoughts came to his head. there was nothing for him to try to decipher from this; it was clear. 

she transfigured a blade of grass into a piece of yarn and then tied it around rosier's wrist, doing a complex bit of spellwork to set a monitor charm. her wand would alert her if his heartrate was too low or high, or if his blood volume dropped to a dangerous level. though she was confident in her work, she still wanted to ensure she hadn't missed anything.

one she seemed satisfied with rosier, she quickly moved over to malfoy, who had just downed the last blood replenishing potion. she muttered several apologies as she pulled up the diagnostic on him, seeing blood loss, the stab wound, and aftershocks of the cruciatus. he, almost angrily, demanded that she stop apologizing, saying that he'd be upset if she'd done anything differently. she gave him a weak smile as she numbed his leg. " _deprehendre femorascere_ ," she cast, to ensure that the damage done to his leg wasn't anything life-altering. he stubbornly refused to look away as she pulled the dagger out of his thigh, which had just missed hitting his femoral artery. he finally did glance away as the blood started to pour from the wound. she banished the excess and sanitized the wound before reattaching the severed muscle tissue and applying dittany to seal the wound. after threatening to stun him if he tried to stand, she moved quickly over to nott. 

he was fine, for the most part, except for cruciatus and his broken leg. she fixed nott's leg with a simple _magna episkey,_ apologizing as she did so because the pain was excruciating. research healers to this day were still unable to figure out why analgesics and bone-healing spells did not work together. 

"where's the cut?" she asked him, wondering why he had such large quantities of blood on him when a laceration that could have produced this did not show up on the diagnostic.

"what?" he croaked through the pain of his leg snapping back together.

"the blood." she said gesturing the the red stains that littered his clothes. "where's the cut?"

his face drained as he looked down at himself. "oh um-"

she turned away from him. "never mind." she said. she realized that it wasn't his blood.

she cleared her throat and moved on to the next person.

lestrange protested at first, but eventually she magically forced him still so that she could heal the slight bruising to his ribs, chastising him angrily that if he continued to struggle, he could've broken a rib and punctured his lungs. she closed the bloody scar on his head after ensuring that it wasn't a blunt force injury, and that he didn't have a concussion.

riddle didn't fight as she came to heal him. in fact, he found her proximity somewhat soothing. she felt like light in the center of all the dark magic he'd just used. he saw her jaw clench as her little diagnostic showed that he had also been subject to the cruciatus curse.

in a sick way, he relished in the fact that she cared enough about him to heal him. he stared directly into her face as she worked, even though she diligently avoided his eye contact throughout. he nodded along at the sound of her voice, not really listening to her warning that whatever she was about to do was going to hurt.

no, that wouldn't do. 

_yes,_ he decided. he'd be with her tonight. 

it didn't matter if she'd ignore him entirely, just as long as she was in his presence. perhaps if he was lucky, her anger would have subsided enough and he could force her into a conversation.

whatever it was, he _needed_ to be around her.

he _craved_ her.

the epiphany startled him. this was _not good._

no amount of... whatever that was, would deter him from his task. perhaps he was done manipulating her, but he was no where near finished figuring out the manipulative little witch. 

when he saw her cry, he caught a glimpse of her unrefined and unrehearsed, and it was _marvelous_. he wasn't a sadist; he didn't get off on seeing her cry, but the fact that she hadn't been able to restrict herself to such vulnerability made him giddy. 

she was opening up to him. whether it was of her own volition was irrelevant.

once she moved away from him, she stood, and looked around all of them, studying them once more to ensure she hadn't missed anything. once she seemed satisfied, her mask dropped firmly back into place and her tone became the one that she regularly used when addressing them in normal situations. 

"i'd wait five more minutes or so before moving. you all need to rest, but you three," she said pointing to malfoy, nott, and rosier. "shouldn't be walking. malfoy, you can apparate to your room, but the two of you should be levitated. try to sleep at least six continuous hours."

she gave them all one last sweeping glance before gathering her bag, scourgifying herself, and setting off back in the direction of the manor. "goodnight all."

"wait!"

"edwards?"

"come back."

"please don't go."

" _sicaria._ "

all five of them spoke at the same time, and sicaria halted in her tracks, against her better judgement. 

without turning around, she spoke. "you all need to sleep. we can talk in the morning, okay?"

she had no intention of talking to them about this.

there were other protestations, but she continued walking.

she got fed up. she was going to explode.

"no!" she shouted, whirling around, struggling to conceal her anger, disappointment, disgust, whatever this emotion was she was feeling. riddle saw it flash in her eyes. _worry? fear? grief?_ she instantly righted herself; yelling at any of them while in such a physically fragile state wouldn't do any of them any favors. "i don't want to know, don't tell me. i don't care. i'm going to bed."  
  
to her gratitude, they made no further protests, only a collective, reluctant _goodnight._

she made her way back through the huge manor, finding her room again relatively easily. she stripped off her nightgown before amusing herself with the thought that they'd seen her in such an immodest garment. though, none of them had noticed; they were all too close to death. 

she couldn't sleep. there was too much adrenaline coursing through her veins. she decided to take another shower as bad thoughts started to filter through her brain.

god, she _needed_ a line. she couldn't feel guilty about it.

she peeked out the of the bathroom window and peered down to the grounds, pleased to see that they were still sitting there, taking her medical advice.

down there, they'd begun discussing their magical findings of the evening, deciphering some of the runes on the scrolls they'd stolen and taking turns trying to analyze the curse on the dagger that rosier had touched. they decided that they'd go on the final part of the quest tomorrow evening now that they had all the items. the wizard who had created the magical scavenger hunt several centuries ago listed several magical items that they had to retrieve from all across europe, along with several rituals and sacrifices. they'd been working on this particular piece of the expedition since the previous summer. it was often that they went on dangerous missions in their ventures to gain magical knowledge and came back unwell, leaving a string of obliviated healers behind them. though this was the closest to death any of them had gotten, they still managed to ignore their physical ailments to celebrate their most recent achievement.

that was, until the mention of a certain witch completely shut down any excitement they had over their discoveries.

they all went silent as sicaria's name slipped into the conversation. 

none of them knew exactly how to go about mending this. they didn't even know where to start. every time they felt like they got near any sort of conclusion or understanding of her, the universe threw in something to throw everything off. after the five of them had dissected her conversation with nott from earlier in the day, they thought they'd made some progress. now, after this situation, they couldn't even come up with a hypothesis as to how she'd react. one step forward, two steps back. 

all they knew was that if in the morning, she tried to pretend nothing happened, they'd lock her in a room and force her to discuss it with them until she cried again, or did anything signifying that she had any emotion or opinion regarding what she'd witnessed and participated in. something as big as this could not fester under the surface of their friendship. 

"but she _cried_ in front of us," malfoy said, running a hand through his hair as his other hand traced the already fading scar on his thigh. "that must mean something, no?"

"it mean's we've fucked up catastrophically, doesn't it?" adonis said. 

"she didn't want to," riddle said, staring at the constellations in the sky, not meeting the eyes of his friends. he didn't know how to discuss her with his friends, so he usually abstained from conversations about her, but he realized that if he wanted to figure her out, he'd need their help. and not just in a ' _distract her so i can take down her wards_ ' kind of way. "

nott squeezed his eyes closed and ran his hand through his sigh. 

" _merlin_ , what have we done to her?"

none of them knew how to fix this.


End file.
